Dancing with the Devil

by James, Marie

“Who is that?”

  “How should I know?” I pray they don’t hear the huskiness in my voice as my eyes land on the blonde that all my recent fantasies are made of. I map the delicate curve of her neck and slender shoulders, imagining my knife trailing down her milky skin. My cock jumps in my jeans.

  “I’ll tell her to leave.”

  Images of me driving that knife through the bum’s head flashes in my mind, only the filthy creature who so vocally spoke of raping Kaci is transformed into Legs.

  “You’ll leave her alone,” I grunt, grabbing her by the upper arm with enough force to make her flinch.

  “Okay,” she breathes. She loves the roughness, but my focus is still on the girl across the room. I don’t bother acknowledging her hand as it skates down my shirt to rest right above my belt buckle.

  The only reason I know she’s still with me after grabbing my beer and crossing the room is because she tries to sit in my lap when I take a seat beside Ronan.

  My focus is solely on Kaci as her head pops up, no longer lost in the music. She frowns, looking around as if she’s just now realizing she’s on the dance floor alone. Her lips turn down even more when she walks to a table overflowing with empty shot glasses, but the disappointment doesn’t last long. She saunters, the sway of her hips hypnotizing me with every step she takes, up to where my sister and her friends are still chatting.

  “Do you know her?” Legs is still clinging to the front of my shirt, so I bat her hand away. She can sit here all she likes but wrapping herself around me in an attempt to put some sort of claim on me isn’t going to happen. She rests her hands on her lap, not pressing her luck with me. I was exceptionally brutal with her before leaving for Richmond, and I feel bad about it. She loved every minute, but that still didn’t keep me from hurting her to ease the uneasiness I felt about leaving for several days.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  Fuck, is this what being married feels like? If nagging and someone being up my ass 24/7 are what it entails, I’ll be fucking single forever.

  “No.” I tilt my beer back to my lips, smiling as Kaci gives the group a little wave before shimmying her hips.

  “You’re staring at her like you want to fuck her.”

  “Don’t have to know her to fuck her,” I counter.

  Ronan snorts, and we clink the necks of our beers together.

  Kaci stays at the bar talking to everyone for a few minutes before she follows Zoe to the booth to continue their conversation. My sister hits the dance floor, and it doesn’t take long for her to be swarmed by people. The club whores want to be her, and every idiot hangaround wants to fuck her.

  I snap a quick video because a picture just wouldn’t do it enough justice and send it to Briar. He’s hours away, and there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it. Knowing he’ll be pissed makes me smile a little wider. I shoot him a picture when he asks what Zoe is doing. Thankfully she’s being a good little girl sitting in the booth and talking with Kaci. I know he’s hoping she’s misbehaving as well so he can get Lynch riled up enough to head back this way.

  Several songs later, and I’ve switched from beer to soda because I know I’m going to have to get Kaci home tonight. They’ve left the booth and are on the dance floor laughing and having a good time. I want to shoot the fucking DJ because each and every song he plays is more seductive than the last. Legs has disappeared, and I’m grateful for my ability to stand and go to the blonde luring me in without hearing her bitch about it.

  She doesn’t look back when I lock my hands on her hips and roll my body with hers. She smells delicious with hints of clean sweat from exertion, whiskey, and the body wash she keeps in her shower. I spent more time than I’m comfortable admitting to standing in her bathroom sniffing her lavender vanilla soap.

  She turns in my arms, and her small smile grows. At first, I think she recognizes me from when I brought her home a week ago, but she doesn’t say anything. Her hips move, legs widening until her skirt is hiked so high, it probably isn’t covering her ass from behind so she can grind on my thigh.

  “I’m Kaci,” she pants so close to my lips I can smell the liquor on hers. “Nice to meet you.”

  She grinds even harder on my leg, and my cock grows jealous.

  “Hi,” I tell her with a smile.

  As if she has come to her senses, she presses both of her hands against my chest. It only makes me hold her tighter. When she shoves at me again, I lower my arms and grip her ass. A wicked smile crosses her lips and realization slams me in the gut.

  This is exactly what she does at the frat parties. She tees a guy up and revels in the abuse she suffers when she rejects him.

  And I thought I was fucked up.

  Her smile fades when I take a step back.

  “Aren’t you angry with me?”

  I don’t bother answering.

  “What drugs have you done tonight?”

  Everything she ingested here had to have been taken of her own free will. The guys in this fucking bar know what will happen if we catch one of them trying to drug a woman. We didn’t have to tell them what almost happened to Molly months ago, they know it’s wrong. The old Ravens Ruin crew wouldn’t bat an eye, but these guys know better.

  “A little of this, a little of that.” Her hips keep moving, and when she realizes I’m not going to force myself on her, she closes the distance and wraps her arms around me again.

  I should push her away and refuse to play her sick fucking games, but I’m anything but hypocritical since I’m a fan of some pretty twisted shit too.

  “I’m TJ,” I finally say, and smile when her brow scrunches up.

  “The knife guy?”

  My eyebrows hit my hairline in surprise. “What do you know about me?”

  “I heard you like to hurt people with your knife.” Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and once again I’m infatuated with a girl who’s nothing but trouble.

  “I can make you come with just the tip of my blade.”

  She somehow manages to get closer. “You seem arrogant enough that I’m sure you believe you’re that good, but I doubt you can make that happen.”

  “Are you challenging me?” My head tilts down further, and we’re a fucking breath away. All she has to do is raise her head a couple of inches, and our mouths would connect.

  “I just know my body.” Her breaths grow shallow, and in my grip, I can feel her muscles tensing. The small tremble in her arms doesn’t go unnoticed either as she clings hard to my back. “You can cut me, but I won’t come. They never let me come.”

  Hatred for every man who has ever hurt her fills my blood to the point I have to take a step back.

  “Let me take you home.”

  Her lip tilts up on the right.

  “Let me freshen up first.”

  She turns and makes her way to the bathroom, and like a fucking dog I stand near the entrance and wait so long, I’m heading in the direction of the bathroom by the time she reemerges. Her steps aren’t as sure as when she left fifteen minutes ago, and when I see Xena walking out right behind her, I know she’s probably snorted more coke.

  I let her lean on me as we make our way to the SUV. I strap her in beside me this time because I just know she’s going to pass out before we get back to her place.

  “Hi,” she giggles as I click her seatbelt. “I’m Kaci.”

  She offers her hand to me, and I know for a fact that just like all the other times she’s seen me, she won’t remember tonight either.

  Chapter 11

  Kaci

  My fingers tap against the note I found wadded up with my cash from my skirt last night. Google tells me that the address is exactly what I suspected. The Ravens Ruin clubhouse is out in the middle of nowhere near Purgatory Chasm. Rumor has it they don’t even call the police if bad shit goes down on the property, which means it’s my kind of place.

  Yet, I’ve been sitting here contemplating about going for the last half hour. As many times as I’ve hop
ed each trip out would be my last, this place holds the most potential for actuality, and I can’t bring myself to get off my bed.

  There’s a phone number written on the slip of paper along with Xena’s name, but she wouldn’t be my reason for going. Those ice-blue eyes I’ve been infatuated with and comments about knives are all that I’ve thought about since waking up this morning.

  TJ brought me home last night, and although I reintroduced myself in his vehicle like I couldn’t remember him, he didn’t take the bait. He carried me inside, situated me on my bed, and covered me with blankets. He didn’t let his eyes linger. He didn’t take my clothes off with the excuse of making me more comfortable. He didn’t molest me or touch me without permission.

  To build my courage, I grab my flask from my bedside table and take a long pull. As the tequila burns down my throat, I refocus on the millions of questions I have for him.

  Why do I feel like I know him even though I only met him last night?

  Why didn’t he hurt me?

  Why didn’t he use his knife on me like he promised?

  A shiver of anticipation rolls down my arms at his dark promise.

  I can make you come with just the tip of my blade.

  I want exactly that, and that scares me more than walking into a frat house with the hopes of being hurt. Wanting someone is new to me, and the sole reason I haven’t gotten off my bed to head to Ravens Ruin territory.

  A few more slugs of tequila and my perspective changes. Within thirty minutes of making my decision, I’m in the back of a cab and arrowing toward the brutal biker’s property. I don’t give myself a second to think or wonder about how I’m going to get home. When the cabbie pulls up to the gate, I slide my card and jump out. He can’t seem to get away fast enough, leaving me standing on the road with the gravel dust swarming around me.

  “Hey there, gorgeous.”

  I smile at the guy standing just outside the door of a small guard shack.

  “I heard there was a party here tonight.” I give him my sweetest smile. I don’t have to flirt very hard. My clothes, or lack thereof, do all the talking for me.

  “Ever been here before?”

  My head shakes, and his smile grows wider.

  “You’re in for a treat then. Tonight, is one of the few nights the guys let people in without formal invites.” Reaching inside the shack he does something to activate the gate, and it’s sliding open to reveal the Ravens Ruin clubhouse.

  I must stand there staring at the building and the rows of motorcycles to the left of the parking lot because the gatekeeper sidles up beside me and whispers in my ear, “I’d tell you that the guys in there don’t bite, but I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  He chuckles when I can’t hide a full body shiver.

  “Clubhouse rules,” he begins, “no fighting with the other girls. No touching the VP. No touching the Prez unless Zoe says you can.”

  “And everyone else?”

  “They’re all fair game, darlin’.” He gives me a little push to get me started, and honestly, I need it. I don’t think I’d begin walking toward the door otherwise.

  The gate begins to close, startling me. When I look back over my shoulder, I realize he’s closing me inside. My blood pumps harder, and the familiar sound of my raging heart pounds in my ears. I make my way between a couple of SUVs in the lot and pull my flask from my small clutch, frowning when I bring it to my lips, only to remember I drained it during the cab ride over here.

  “Get some rest, my beautiful broken girl.”

  Those were the words TJ left me with last night when he pressed his soft lips to my temple, and the thrill of him being here tonight is enough to motivate my legs to move. Why I want to seek out the one man who somehow threatened me with a knife, but turned me on at the same time is beyond me, but being in his arms on the dance floor last night was the most alive I’ve felt in almost a decade. I’d be a damn fool to not find him.

  My heels come to an abrupt stop as I realize exactly where my head is. I don’t want to like him. I don’t deserve the thrills TJ gave me last night.

  “Hey, sexy.”

  My head turns, finding some guy standing in the shadows of another vehicle. His eyes rake me up and down as if he’s appraising the value of something he’s already purchased. The tremble in my hands is immediate. The sweat pooling along my spine despite the cool air is a warning telling me to get away from him. So I do what I’ve always done in these situations. I smile and ask him his name.

  “Spencer.” He holds his hand out, pulling me roughly by my wrist.

  I tumble against his chest, and his hands immediately find my ass, fingers skimming along the narrow fabric between my thighs. Bile rises in my throat, and my eyes burn with the effort to swallow it back down.

  “Wanna have some fun?” I don’t answer him, but I also don’t put up too much of a fight when he leads me through the darkness to a building similar to a garage for auto repairs.

  I’m terrified, as I should be. When he closes us inside the building and blackness fills my line of sight, and all I can hear are his panting breaths, I realize I’m too sober to let this happen. As much as I love the thrill of being hurt, of being ignored when I push someone away, I always have the drugs to cushion my bad decisions. The tequila alone isn’t enough for me tonight.

  “Don’t.” I push against his chest, and true to form of every guy I’ve been in this position with the last couple of years, he only holds me tighter.

  “Don’t get cold feet, baby. Play nice, and I’ll make you come.”

  Leaning back, an attempt to keep his harsh puffs of breath from invading my nose, I realize he’s situated us against a wall. I have nowhere to go. The second my arms and legs begin to shake as if I’m convulsing, I know I’m in deep trouble.

  “Stop.” I push against him again, but unlike the frat boys who just grip me harder and whisper bullshit about enjoying it, Spencer pulls his arm back before hitting me with the crushing blow of his fist.

  Someone cries out, but it doesn’t sound like my voice. My knees give out, and by instinct when my body begins to crumple my arms come up to protect my face. I haven’t experienced this kind of violence in six years. How could I have forgotten how much it actually hurts to be hit?

  His foot reaches back, and the tip of his boot hits me in the ribs before I can protect them. That same person screams again, and this time Spencer only laughs.

  Bruises, scratch marks, and bite marks are a common occurrence. Punches to the face and kicks to the stomach have their place as well, I realize. Before he reaches his arm back to hit me again, I lower my arms and smile up at him. His first blow must’ve split my lip because the taste of iron fills my mouth. I lick at my wet lips, my teeth digging into them when he hits me again.

  “You crazy bitch.” The hits keep coming until a door is opened and Spencer is haloed by an aura of light.

  Is this it? Is this where it finally ends? Had I known it would take more physical pain to bring my demise, I would’ve sought it out long before now.

  “What the fuck?” A gruff voice echoes around the room before Spencer is pulled back.

  I reach out for him, disappointed that the abuse has transitioned to him. He doesn’t deserve to be kicked and beaten. Those are my kicks and blows.

  “Me,” I choke out, the pain of speaking forcing my arms to wrap around my waist.

  “Jesus Christ,” someone mutters before I feel my body being lifted.

  “Death,” I whisper as my body is jostled when the guy stands with me in his arms.

  “You’ll be okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Only then do the tears start to fall. I don’t need to be saved. I don’t want it. Sharp intakes of breath make my head spin, and before I can tell the guy to just throw me away, darkness clouds my vision.

  This is perfect, I think as my body succumbs to my injuries.

  Chapter 12

  TJ

  My cock is hard before I can even c
limb into the SUV. Leaving Kaci last night was harder than it ever should’ve been. Not touching her after the way she moved against me on the dance floor was a test I normally would fail.

  I wave to Sonic, the new prospect manning the gate as I drive through and press the buttons on my phone to bring up Kaci’s tracker. The ass end of the SUV fishtails when I stomp on the gas. She isn’t at her studio in Andover or getting into trouble at one of those fucking frat houses she frequents to get her rocks off. She’s a quarter mile back at my fucking clubhouse. Patience isn’t my friend when I slam on the brakes to get to the only section of the road wide enough to turn around.

  “Forget something?” Sonic asks when I pull back up to the gate.

  “You could say that,” I grumble. My fingers tap with agitation on the steering wheel as I’m forced to wait for the gate mechanism to engage and drag it open enough to fit the width of the vehicle.

  “Cut it close,” Sonic yells when I drive through with only an inch or so to spare.

  I ignore him and the gate closing back up when I climb out of the SUV and head for the front door of the club. She’s either here because one of the girls invited her, or she’s looking for me. I huff a humorless laugh at the thought. The girl will not even remember who I am so that only leaves one reason for her being here. My blood is boiling before I reach the front steps to the clubhouse. I normally don’t hurt women unless they beg for it, but if I find Xena with her mouth or hands on Kaci, I know I’ll lose my shit.

  Angry voices pull my attention to the left, and I plan to only give them a passing glance, but I spot Hornet walking toward the side door of the clubhouse with a woman in his arms. It’s not unusual for women to get so drunk they have to be carried to a bed to sober up, but I spot the woman’s shoes. They’re the same pair of black heels Kaci was wearing last night, and consequently the only thing I stripped from her body before pulling the covers up to hide all of her tempting flesh.

  I’m off the porch and barreling toward him when he’s spotlighted by the flood light focused on the parking lot. Bruises are forming on her face and a ring of blood coats her mouth even brighter than the red she’s known to paint her lips with.