Satan's Revenge (A Satan's Sons MC Novel)

by Loren, Celia

  “Four years. Wow, Scott really didn’t tell you anything!” Marcus laughs, and Drifter winces.

  “There’s quite the family resemblance,” I observe. I examine Marcus’s face…his nose is a bit longer and more pointed than Drifter’s, his mouth a little thinner, and his hair darker, but they have the same deep-set blue eyes, and the same brow. He’s certainly a good-looking guy. They also have a similar body type, but Drifter is taller, and probably has about twenty extra pounds of muscle on him.

  “Yeah, we both have Mom’s eyes,” Marcus agrees.

  “You put something on the grill?” Drifter says, standing up. He never likes to talk about his parents.

  “Yeah, chicken, hope that’s OK with you,” I say to Marcus.

  “Oh, I’ll eat anything,” Marcus replies with a smile.

  “I’ll check on it,” Drifter says. “Violet’s a great cook,” he calls back before pulling the sliding door shut behind him.

  Marcus and I smile awkwardly at each other. First time we’ve been alone since I tried to beat him up. That old situation.

  “So, sorry again about earlier. Are you OK? Do you want me to look at anything? I’m a nurse.”

  “No, no, I’m OK. Well, actually, I’m pretty embarrassed. Last time a woman took me down like that was…never.”

  “Drifter’s a good teacher,” I explain.

  “Mmm…So you’re a nurse?”

  “Yeah, at the local hospital. I guess Drifter hasn’t told you much about me, either. You guys talk a lot?”

  “No, not really. He mentioned he was seeing someone, but I didn’t realize you guys were living together or anything.”

  I frown. That hurts. Makes me sound like some casual fling.

  He must read my expression correctly, because he continues, “But it sounds like he didn’t tell you much about me either. That’s par for the course for him, though.”

  I glance up as he takes a swig of his beer. What does that mean? Drifter is so well respected with the Sons that it’s rare for me to hear anything negative said about him, however minor.

  And I’m not about to tell him that Drifter actually didn’t mention he had a brother at all. I can’t imagine how that would make Marcus feel.

  “So, I forget…did you and Drifter grow up with the same foster families?” I ask tentatively.

  A short bark of laughter breaks from Marcus’s lips and a look of pain crosses his eyes. Before he can respond, Drifter walks back inside with the food on a large plate.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he calls.

  I jump up to grab the silverware and napkins as Marcus takes a seat at the table. I give Kalb and Scout their dinner so they don’t beg, and Drifter grabs some plates. We all take a seat around the antique wooden table, one of the only pieces of furniture I brought from my old house. It was my paternal grandmother’s before it came to me.

  We pass around the chicken and fill our plates as we listen to the dogs munch on their kibble in the kitchen.

  “So, how did you two meet?” Marcus asks.

  Drifter and I glance at each other. Even though I’m mad at him, I can’t help but laugh as he smiles at me and raises his eyebrows.

  “You want to tell it, or should I?” he asks.

  “Oh, you go ahead, please,” I reply.

  “Well, to make a long story short, um, Violet and I met when she was a den mom at the Sons’ clubhouse.”

  “A den mom?” Marcus asks. “Is that a thing?”

  “Well, no, not really,” I clarify. “He’s leaving a lot out…most of which we can’t talk about because it’s club business, and the rest…” my chest tightens. I feel Drifter’s hand slide onto my thigh and squeeze gently.

  “The rest isn’t so pretty, but I met Violet, so it was worth it.”

  “Well, this is a great place you have here. Your dogs seem to like it,” Marcus replies, taking the hint to change the subject.

  “Oh, yeah, they love it. Scout, the one with the white and brown hair, he was my dog before, and Drifter brought Kalb back from his last tour. We thought Kalb would be the dominant one, but he just follows Scout around. And now they both like Drifter better, because he takes them on longer walks.”

  “What can I say? Dogs are easy,” Drifter smiles.

  “When I call them, they run to him,” I add, rolling my eyes.

  “So, how are you, man? Everything good?” Drifter asks, turning to Marcus.

  “Oh, yeah, you know, just trying to figure out what I want to do exactly. I just wish I had your kind of focus, you know? I mean, you always knew exactly what you wanted to do, and nothing was going to stop you,” he replies.

  Drifter shifts a little in his chair. “Well, the Corps certainly gave me a lot of opportunities. Hey, maybe Violet could ask if they’re hiring at the hospital?”

  “Oh, sure, I mean, I could ask. I’m pretty new there, though. It’s not like I have a lot of pull.”

  “I’ll ask at my construction job, too, but I know my boss just took on his cousin, so he’s probably not looking to hire anyone for a little while.”

  “That’s OK. The motel doesn’t cost much,” Marcus says.

  “You’re staying at a motel?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s not bad. TV’s kinda in and out, though.”

  “You’re not staying at a motel. Come and stay here,” Drifter says. I can’t hide the look of surprise on my face. Marcus’s eyes flicker toward me.

  “No, I mean, are you sure that would be OK?”

  “You’re my brother. I’m not letting you stay in a motel. Besides, we’ve got two extra bedrooms. I’ll drive you back to the motel when we’re done with dinner to pick up your stuff.”

  “That’d be great,” Marcus says.

  “Great,” I echo hollowly. I’ve gone from not even knowing Drifter had a brother to said brother staying with us…indefinitely?

  “Hey, this chicken is great, Violet,” Marcus says.

  “Thanks,” I smile. We finish up the meal making small talk, and then Drifter and Marcus take the truck to go grab Marcus’s stuff, which he assures us isn’t much.

  I clean up the dishes, thinking about how differently this night has gone than I had planned. I’m exhausted, and I have work tomorrow morning. All I really want right now is a hot shower.

  Kalb and Scout follow me into the bedroom and lie outside the bathroom door while I turn on the water and step inside. As I shampoo my hair and shave my legs, I feel angrier and angrier at Drifter. He knows I have trust issues, he didn’t tell me about his brother, and then he just invites him to stay without even asking me? I can’t believe him.

  I rinse off, wrap myself in towel, and step out into our bedroom. Drifter is sitting on the bed, waiting for me. He smiles as he watches me walk to the bureau.

  “You look sexy,” he says.

  “Don’t even try,” I warn him. He sighs.

  “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I should have told you.”

  “Better…” I say, as I pull my short eyelet nightgown over my head. “So…why didn’t you?”

  “It’s hard to explain…”

  “Are you ashamed of me?” I ask, my throat tightening around the question. “Of how we met, or…” Tears begin to slide down my cheeks.

  “No! No, how could you think that? You’re the best part of my life,” he says, looking up at me with pain in his eyes.

  My heart thaws a little at his expression. Even when I’m angry at him, I can’t bear to see him in pain.

  “Then what is it? I mean, in a year, you didn’t tell me you had a brother. A brother. That’s huge! It just makes me question…I mean, you know everything there is to know about me. I just feel so far away from you right now, and I hate that feeling. Are there other things I don’t know about you? Like, any other siblings, or is he it?”

  “No, of course not!” I raise my eyebrows at the indignation in his voice. “OK, I guess that’s not a given anymore. Look, I…I just, well, first of all, there’s nothing else. OK? No ske
letons or anything else hiding in my closet.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me about him?”

  “Marcus’s and my relationship…it’s always been tough. I wasn’t there for him like I should have been.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I…please, please don’t ask me to explain. I know that you’re pissed, and you have every right to be, but, I just… it’s in the past, and I want to leave it there. I know that’s a lot to ask you right now, to ask you to trust me, but...”

  He looks up at me, fear and anguish in his eyes. I sit down on the bed next to him. He has never lied to me before. About anything. Can I let this go without knowing the whole story?

  “How long do you think he’s going to stay with us?” I murmur.

  He glances over to me. “I’m not sure,” he whispers. “Not long, though. Not long, I promise.”

  “Don’t lie to me again,” I say. “I couldn’t take it.”

  “I won’t,” he replies. He turns to me and buries his face in my neck, his rough, calloused hand cradling my cheek. “I’m so sorry. I just, there are parts of my childhood…you are the best of me. Please believe that. Don’t cry, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  I close my eyes, listening to his familiar voice in my ear, and my fear and anger begin to subside. He kisses my neck softly, and I shiver. His touch still has the ability to awaken my senses so quickly that it leaves me shocked every time. Whenever we’ve had arguments in the past months, we can always come back to this.

  He kisses my neck again, feeling my reaction. Then he moves up, closer to my ear, my wet hair parting over his face. He nibbles suddenly on my earlobe, and I gasp. He drops to his knees on the floor and turns, pulling my knees apart and pressing himself into me. He wraps his arms around my back and pulls me toward him, so my ass is resting on the edge of the bed. I duck my head down and kiss him hard. I want to feel his body against mine, to wash away the sense of distance between us.

  Our lips meet each other’s and immediately open, our tongues pressing together, desperate and eager to connect. He probes my mouth deeply, bringing one hand up to the back of my neck to hold me in place. I feel his other hand move around to the front of my nightgown, running up my stomach and grazing my left breast. I feel my nipple harden immediately at his touch, and he palms my breast, massaging it as a groan escapes the back of my throat.

  He leans back and roughly pulls the hem of my nightgown up and over my head, his eyes hungry. A moment later his mouth is on my breast, sucking hard. I haven’t felt his need this strong in a while. He takes both of my breasts in his hands, pushing them together, then moving quickly back and forth between them, alternately flicking his tongue to and fro and gently nibbling. Then he moves to the soft skin under my breast, to the sensitive crease. He kisses me gently and then bites down. I cry out at the surprising sensation, trusting that he knows just where my boundaries are.

  He trails kisses quickly down my stomach, the intensity of his desire driving him on. I’m panting in anticipation of his next move. He places a hand on the inside of both of my knees and presses them open even farther, so that the backs of them are almost pressing against the bed on either side. He dips his head and takes a deep lick of me. I cry out and lean back on my hands, tilting my head back. He presses his tongue inside me, thrusting in and out, then circling it inside me. He slowly draws his tongue up, pressing it hard against me until it meets my clit, where he changes up the pressure, flicking it lightly across me. I moan, his masterful strokes bringing me close to orgasm already.

  I feel him release my left knee, and a second later his fingers are inside me, working their way up against my g-spot.

  “Oh, fuck, Violet, I love how wet you get. Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he orders me.

  “Yes,” I breathe, as his fingers circle inside me.

  “Come on, baby, beg. I want to hear it,” he says as he buries his face against my clit, his tongue stroking back and forth mercilessly as his fingers thrust inside me.

  “Please, Drifter, please. I need you,” I beg him, and hear him unzip his pants. He doesn’t even bother to pull them down, he just takes out his hard cock and stands up.

  My eyes fly open and I smile up at him. I know he just wants to fuck me right now, but I want to tease him a little. I suddenly lunge forward and kneel in front of him, taking his dick in my mouth as he gapes at me in surprise.

  “Wait, Violet, I…” he begins, and trails off as I suck on him, hard. “Oh, fuck…” he groans, as I take his huge member all the way to the back of my throat. I pull back, and swirl my tongue around his tip, then pull him back into my mouth again and again. I watch his head fall back as he buries his hand in my damp hair. I reach my hand inside his fly and grasp his balls, massaging them firmly. His jaw muscles tense, and I can tell he’s trying not to come.

  Abruptly, I pull back and blow on the sensitive underside of his dick.

  “You want to fuck me?” I ask, then take him quickly into my mouth, all the way to the base.

  “Oh, fuck, yes,” he groans, his eyes filled with desire as he stares down at me with his cock in my mouth. I pull him back out.

  “Beg,” I order him, sucking hard on his tip.

  “Please, Violet, please. I will make you feel so good,” he promises.

  I stand up and wrap my hands around his neck. He buries himself in my mouth and we taste each other’s lips. He grabs my ass and lifts me up, and I feel his dick against my slit. I cry out as he slowly thrusts inside me, his cock stretching me apart deliciously. He moans in satisfaction as our hips meet and then pulls his hips back and slams back into me. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck as he easily supports my weight with his arms. I love that in this moment I’m not touching anything else but him.

  I press my tongue into his ear as he pulls my butt cheeks apart so he can drive even deeper inside me. He leans back, my hands just on his shoulders, as he lifts my hips up and down on his cock. He slams into me again and again, the sweet fullness inside me driving me wild.

  Suddenly, he takes a few steps and I feel him tip forward, his strong arm snaking around my back to keep me in position as I fall onto the bed with him on top of me. I grunt as his weight presses down on me. He quickly takes my hands and pins them over my head with one of his giant paws. Between that and the weight of his body, I’m completely immobile.

  He slowly pulls out of me, his light blue eyes staring into mine, until just his tip is inside. He eases back into me, painstakingly slowly, teasing me. Again he draws back out, until I am whimpering in frustration. I try to buck my hips up to increase his pace, but he smiles and pulls my left leg up and out, increasing the pressure on my g-spot. When he sees that he’s got me right on the edge, he slams into me, thrusting faster and faster. I almost scream in satisfaction as my orgasm quickly builds again.

  “Oh, god, yes, Drifter, yes!” I cry out, his dick hitting me in all the right places. I groan unintelligibly as I explode in pleasure around him, hearing him yell as he empties himself into me.

  I feel him thrust softly into me a few more times before he stills, his chest heaving against mine as our sweat mingles together.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  “I love you,” I reply. “You still have your clothes on,” I observe as I catch my breath.

  “And you look like you could use another shower. All sweaty,” he replies, shaking his head. He rolls off of me, pulling his long-sleeved t-shirt off over his head. I sigh as I watch him walk into the bathroom, pulling his pants off as he walks. God, his body is ridiculous. His broad shoulders leading down in a v-shape to that ass…

  “Hey, wait for me!” I call out, as he turns on the water for the shower.

  Chapter Three

  Drifter

  Oregon, 15 years ago

  I stand outside the shower, shivering, waiting for the water to heat up. I stick my hand into the trickle of water from the rusted showerhead. Still ice cold. If it’s not hot at this point,
it’s probably not heating up at all.

  I jump in, gritting my teeth against the frigid water. I bounce from foot to foot as I lather up with the bar soap as quickly as possible, using it to wash my hair and then my whole body. The air is cool for September, and I want to get to the gym at school to lift weights before the day starts.

  I hear a knock on the door. That’s my foster dad Robert’s way of saying, “Hurry up, I need the bathroom.” I want to yell back that no one would use this shower longer than they absolutely had to, but I’ve learned that the best way to live with the Ralstons, Robert and his wife Elaine, is to just go about my business and let them go about theirs.

  I rinse off the last of the suds and shut off the water. I grab a thin towel from the hook behind the door and wrap it around my shivering shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror tells me that there’s no need to shave again. I’m starting to grow a beard, but a shave every few days easily keeps it at bay. I open the door and head back to my small room. There’s no sign of Robert in the hallway, but once my door closes I hear him padding past my door toward the bathroom.

  I always used to have a small bit of hope every time I was placed with a new foster family, no matter how much I told myself it was stupid. But I’m fifteen now, and in a couple months, when I’m sixteen, I’ll be allowed to leave the foster care system and live by myself, so I want this to be the last foster family I’m ever with.

  At least the Ralstons aren’t abusive, just distant. It was clear from my first day here, about a year and a half ago, that they weren’t really interested in being parents, they just wanted the money they got from the government for being a foster family. They’re older, and I learned that Robert had an accident last year and hurt his back and now he only works part-time, so they thought having a foster kid stay with them would be a good way to supplement their income. But it means that the money meant to supply me with food and clothes goes to cover their needs, so I mostly fend for myself. They serve a breakfast at school for kids who don’t get enough at home, and I hide some food at lunch to eat when I get home for dinner.