THE DEVIL’S BRIDE

by April Lust

  She opened her eyes and snapped her face towards mine. I’d rattled her finally. I’d jerked her out of her little fantasy, whatever it was. I’d shown her I still had the upper hand, regardless of how erect I obviously was.

  She stared at me, wide-eyed, taking in every movement I made as I stepped back from her. She licked her lips slowly before saying anything. “I can’t do that,” she said. “I can’t tell you.” She shook her head.

  “Then I guess we’re done here,” I told her. She was good. I had no other way to break her besides resorting to outright torture, and I’d already told myself I wasn’t going down that road with her.

  “Wait, you’re giving up? How is that any fun?” she asked as I walked back over to the work bench to grab my phone.

  “It’s not, but you’re not playing along anyway, so I’m going to leave you with someone else.”

  I texted Alec to come down and watch her while I figured out what else to do with her.

  A few minutes later, the door slid open and Alec walked in.

  “This is our thief?” he asked when he saw the blue-eyed blonde with tan skin and deliciously kissable lips tied to the chair.

  “Yes. Alec, this is Clara. Clara, this is Alec. He’s going to watch you for a little while.”

  “Nice to meet you, Alec,” she said.

  “He’s off limits, Clara. Remember, you’re my prisoner,” I teased her.

  I patted Alec on the shoulder and led him to the door.

  “You don’t have to talk to her or anything,” I told him in a low tone. “If she starts flirting, drop it. She’s going to use that to try to get free.”

  “Oh yeah? I bet it works more often than not,” he joked.

  “Probably. That’s why I’m going to give her some time to cool off.”

  “Why don’t we just torture her like we would anyone else, boss?” he asked me.

  It was the million-dollar question, really. I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did about her. There was something special about her that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, something deeper than how sexy she was.

  “No, I told her I wouldn’t. Don’t lay a finger on her,” I warned him. “Call me if anything changes. I’ll send relief for you in the morning.”

  I shot her another look as I walked through the door and closed it behind me. She looked like she was already working on another plan in her head. I decided as well to put someone at the top of the stairs in case she managed to get free under Alec’s watch. He didn’t have the strongest constitution among my men, but he was loyal.

  Clara was certain to test him. That was a woman after my own heart, and that was probably what I liked about her so much.

  Chapter 5

  Clara

  Just like that, he was gone. The brief time I spent with Mason left me wanting more, but he’d left me in the care of his men. They quietly rotated watch over me in shifts. No one really said anything. They just came, sat for a while, and went. I was given water and food. I was allowed to use the bathroom by gunpoint with my wrists and ankles tied.

  All the while, I wondered what Mason was cooking up in that deranged head of his. I kept waiting for him to come back in with the conviction that I wasn’t worth saving or protecting any longer. I expected him at all hours of the day. I wasn’t exactly disappointed that I wasn’t being treated the way so many others had been before more. I was more confused than anything. What had changed his mind about me, I wondered.

  Days passed before I saw him again. I kept time the best way I could by the shift changes. There was no outside light. There were no windows in the basement. They didn’t have a clock on the wall. My guards would check their phones occasionally. A couple of them stayed on their phones the whole time, playing games and checking social media.

  All of my guards looked pretty much the same, as if they had walked through the same mold to become members of Storm’s Angels. They were all muscular with tattoos. They had different lengths of hair, ranging from shaved heads to shoulder length locks. They all wore plain t-shirts under their black leather vests. All wore blue jeans and boots. Their membership seemed to be as much a fashion statement as it was anything else. Any one of them would have gladly roughed me up, too, if Mason ordered it.

  I counted four different men coming to see me. They each came by three or four times. I lost count. I figured this was going to be my new normal for the foreseeable future, so I settled in. I slept little, keeping an eye on the guys who visited me in Mason’s place. I knew I couldn’t trust anyone under his power. I didn’t try to initiate conversations with any of them. I knew where their loyalties had been placed, and I wasn’t about to try to undermine those.

  Then, the door opened suddenly, and I expected another unceremonious changing of the guard. Instead of just another member of Storm’s Angels, however, it was Mason, returning for me. I looked at him and couldn’t help the sly little smile spreading across my face.

  “Have you finally decided how you want to handle me?” I taunted him.

  “I have,” he said. He waved my guard away and closed the door behind him.

  “So, what’s it going to be?” I continued. “Are you going to smack me around? Break my fingers one by one until I talk? Are you going to finish stripping me?”

  “Nope.” He produced a knife from behind him, possibly from the waist of his jeans or his back pocket. I felt my body tingle with anticipation.

  “You’re going to cut me? Make it quick. I don’t want to take up any more of your time,” I teased him.

  “You won’t,” he said. He knelt down in front of me and put the knife to my ropes.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m setting you free,” he answered.

  “Why in the world would you want to do that?” He was supposed to be torturing me and trying to get information out of me. He wasn’t supposed to be letting me go. This didn’t make any sense.

  He didn’t say anything. He cut the ropes on my ankles. Then, he cut the ropes around my wrists and forearms. Then, he stepped around behind me and cut the ropes around the back of the chair. I lifted my arms and sat forward. I was free!

  He grabbed my arm and guided me out of my chair as he walked back around in front of me.

  “Tell me, did my men take care of you?” he asked.

  “Within reason,” I told him. “I didn’t receive any special treatment, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Did they hurt you? Did they say anything to you?” he asked, concerned. He almost sounded like he didn’t trust his men to do what he told them to.

  I thought about telling him they did, just to see what he would have done if he thought I’d been mistreated in anyway. “No, they left me alone. They brought me food and water and even helped me to the bathroom,” I told him, not wanting to distress him anymore than he already seemed to be.

  “Okay. I told them to leave you alone. We want to send you back to your boss unharmed,” he said.

  “You’re letting me go?” I narrowed my eyes. I should have been happy to be getting set free, but I suspected he had something up his sleeve. Either he was going to have someone follow me back to Skull or he was sure Skull knew I’d been caught by now, so setting me loose would be like sending me into a trap.

  “I am. You’re free to go. I’ve wasted enough time and energy on you, and I can’t really keep sending guys down here to watch you. Send your boss my regards.” He stepped aside and gestured towards the door for me to leave.

  I looked at the door, then back at him. I didn’t trust him not to be trying to trick me into something. Besides, I couldn’t go back to Skull empty-handed. That would be suicide. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I didn’t know which way to turn.

  What I did know was that Skull was going to be pissed if I turned up without any drugs or intel. I also knew I’d sensed Mason’s attraction to me. I decided, as I stood facing the door to the basement, to use the attract
ion we both felt to my advantage. When I did return, it wouldn’t be empty-handed. I would have something on Storm’s Angels that would help Skull take them down.

  “No,” I told Mason, turning to face him.

  “No, what? What do you mean no?” he asked.

  “I’m not leaving. You don’t want me to leave,” I explained. I took a step closer to him and ran one of my long fingers along his rigid shoulder.

  “You’re of no use to me,” he insisted, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away. “You need to leave.”

  His touch sent ripples of red hot pleasure through my body. I pressed myself closer to him. Now that I was no longer confined to that chair, I didn’t have to play nice with him. I could take what I wanted. And I wanted him.

  “What if I don’t want to leave?” I whispered in his ear.

  He grabbed my arms and pushed me back. I mean, he gripped me, wrapped his thick, strong fingers around me hard enough to leave marks. I gasped and clenched my legs together as the intense pleasure rippled down between my thighs.

  “You’re going to leave,” he growled.

  “You’re not going to make me,” I laughed.

  He pushed me against the wall and pressed himself against me. I could feel his desire growing for me, hardening for me, between his legs. He pressed his erection firmly against me. Our faces were close enough I could almost taste his breath. I licked my lips, ready to meet his in a solid kiss, but he pushed away from me.

  “There’s no use denying you want me,” I taunted him.

  “I’m not denying anything,” he said, turning away.

  I closed the distance between us and put my arms around him, running my hands down his hard chest and stomach, reaching for the swell in the front of his jeans. I wanted to run my fingers over it, to feel it in my hand.

  “I felt your desire against me,” I murmured.

  “No.” He grabbed my wrist again, causing the muscles behind my lower lips to twitch and tighten. His touch was electric.

  “Come on,” I pleaded with him. “You can’t say you don’t want to know what’s under these clothes,” I taunted.

  “I can’t?” He raised an eyebrow. “I can say anything I want, Clara.”

  “Then say it,” I told him. “Tell me you aren’t curious. Tell me the reason you stopped cutting my pants open was anything other than your reluctance to see me that way. You want me, but you don’t want to take me improperly, do you?”

  He smiled and blushed. I had this big bad biker in front of me blushing because he had a little schoolboy crush on me. It was all I could do not to laugh at him at that moment, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let myself laugh. It would have ruined my momentum with him.

  Instead, I reached down and unbuttoned my pants.

  “What are you doing?” he asked sternly, letting me know I was crossing a line, a line I felt needed to be crossed.

  “I’m going to give you what you want. Don’t you want to see me?” I playfully asked him.

  “No, not like…no.” He grabbed my pants and tried to hold them closed with one hand while I pulled the other around me.

  This time, I grabbed his wrist and forced his hand against my cotton panties. I tilted my head back and pulled in a deep, sharp breath through my nose as I made his solid, masculine hand rub against me through the fabric.

  “Dammit, Clara,” he said against my neck, pulling his hand back from me slowly, almost reluctantly.

  I let him go and backed away with a smile on my face, trying not to laugh at how I was torturing him.

  “Keep your pants on,” he said with a kind of resolve in his voice.

  “Can I stay?” I asked him as I zipped and buttoned.

  He looked at me for a few long, silent moments. I could see in his mesmerizing, deep green eyes that he was weighing his options with me. He wasn’t completely sure what to do with me, and I liked being able to see that in him.

  “You’re going to be the death of me if I keep you here as anything but a prisoner,” he told me.

  “Probably,” I teased, “but at least you’ll enjoy it.”

  “All right, get your shoes,” he said abruptly.

  “What about the rest of my things, like my pack?” I asked.

  “Here.” He stepped over to the work bench and tossed my backpack to me.

  “Where am I going?” I asked. While Plan B seemed to be working so far, I still wasn’t sure what each step in the plan was going to be.

  “You need a shower, and I’m sure you’d appreciate a little privacy, maybe a change of clothes,” he answered.

  “Yeah, of course I would,” I said with a baffled laugh. I grabbed my shoes from the floor and shoved them in my pack.

  “You’re going barefoot?” he asked when he saw me.

  “Don’t pretend I’m some fragile little flower just because I’m a woman,” I said with a sigh. “I think I’ve proven myself to you by now.”

  “Sorry.” He raised his hands. “I just mean, you know, I wouldn’t walk around here barefoot,” he explained.

  “Well, I’ll be careful,” I told him flatly.

  “Okay, let’s go.” He slid the door open and allowed me to walk up the stairs ahead of him. I expected to find all of the other members of the MC waiting for me upstairs, ready to pounce on me. I was waiting for this plan of mine to implode at any moment, but I knew in order for it to work, I had to remain calm about the whole thing.

  I heard the door close behind me, and soon Mason was walking behind me with a hand on my lower back. I grinned. I should have come in here with Plan B to begin with. It was much easier to get in good with him than to find his drugs.

  Chapter 6

  Mason

  I didn’t expect her to actually take my offer of freedom. I knew she would choose to stay. She couldn’t go back to her boss empty-handed, but there was another reason she didn’t want to leave just yet, and it became pretty obvious as soon as I untied her. She wanted me.

  I wanted her, too. I couldn’t deny it. She’d noticed it when I shoved myself against her. I’d pressed myself against her and felt her body pressing against mine at the same time. She wanted me just as badly.

  I tried to hold it together while I listened to the shower running in my bathroom, knowing she was in there, naked behind my shower door. All I had to do was open the bathroom door and I would be in there with her.

  I closed my eyes and imagined her in there, standing naked under the hot water rushing over her tan body. I imagined every curve catching water and letting it roll off. I leaned my head back and let the image linger in my head while I listened to the running water. I imagined those beautiful blue eyes staring at me through the steam, the wet hair clinging to the back of her neck while her serpentine curves almost danced in front of me.

  I imagined pinning her thin wrists against the hard tile wall and pressing my naked, hot manhood between her legs. I wondered what she looked like down there. Did she shave, giving herself a submissive look, ready to please anyone man enough to take charge? Or was she the type of woman who kept meticulously trimmed hair to show off her dominant nature?

  “There’s just one way to find out,” I said to myself, but I stayed on the couch. If things worked out the way I wanted them to, I’d have plenty of time to find out and explore her body.

  It was all part of my new plan with her. I figured if I couldn’t get her to give in with regular tactics, and I wasn’t about to damage her, I would have to seduce her to get information from her. I would do whatever I needed to in order to make her talk, and once I found out who her boss was, I was going to take him down and leave her in the dust.

  I wasn’t completely sold on the last part of the plan, though. The jury was still out on whether or not to leave the end open for interpretation.

  The water stopped. So did my heart. I didn’t want her to find me in the living room, kicked back on my white leather couch, listening to her shower. I reached over to the glass coffee table and grabbed the remote
control for the large flat screen I had mounted on the white wall in my living room and turned on the news. I figured it was good background noise. There was always someone running their mouth, or there were commercials keeping the sound going.

  I realized I didn’t have a drink or anything. Nothing about what I was doing looked natural. It was pretty obvious I’d just been sitting here listening to her in the shower. I got up and walked across my hardwood floor to my open kitchen, which faced the bathroom door. I grabbed a rocks glass from the cupboard, dropped a few pieces of ice in it, and poured myself a glass of whiskey.