Ruined Page 9

  ‘Leanne was supposed to be looking after her.’

  ‘Red decided he had other plans for Leanne,’ Tiger muttered.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I repeated, annoyed at being talked about like I wasn’t there and irritated by the relief I felt at Smoke’s return. ‘Tiger looked out for me.’

  Surprise flashed in Tiger’s eyes, as if he wasn’t expecting that. Okay, so I didn’t much like the guy, but I appreciated him being there.

  ‘Thanks, bro,’ Smoke said. ‘I owe you.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’d better hurry this show along.’ Tiger jerked his head towards the fire. ‘I got better things to do than guard women.’

  Smoke released me, then took my hand. ‘Come on. Time we introduced you to the club.’

  My gut twisted. I didn’t know what I expected, but clearly whatever it was that Smoke was going to do he was going to do it in front of everyone.

  I tried to calm myself down as he led me over to the bonfire. People were turning to look at us and I felt self-conscious in my pencil skirt and stiletto heels. No other woman was wearing clothes like that and I felt overdressed. As we got closer to the fire, I began to feel hot and panicky.

  ‘Hey, assholes!’

  Keep’s deep voice cut through the noise like a sharp knife through leather. He was standing on the other side of the fire and had obviously seen us coming.

  ‘Shut the fuck up for a second! Smoke’s got something to say.’

  Surprisingly, everyone quieted, turning to look at where Smoke and I stood. His fingers, laced through mine, were warm, his grip firm, and I had a strange urge to pull away and start running. Get away.

  ‘To all those fuckers who’ve taken bets on whether Cat and I are together!’ Smoke shouted, his voice husky, gritty, with a thread of what sounded like triumph winding through it. ‘It’s time to either collect what you’re owed or pay up.’

  He lifted his other hand and I saw he was holding something in it. A black leather vest, like the cut he wore. On the back was a patch that read Property of Smoke, Knights of Ruin MC.

  People cheered. Some of them shouted encouragement and punched their fists into the sky. Others called out cheerful yet filthy curses.

  The firelight leapt across Smoke’s face as he looked at me, the flickering shadows making him a stranger. His eyes were as dark as the night sky above our heads and he was smiling. But it wasn’t the amused, friendly smiles I was used to. This was different. It was hungry...feral. A predator’s smile.

  He held up the vest between his hands and it was obvious what he wanted me to do.

  People were shouting and cheering as I walked over to him, the ground feeling unsteady under my feet. My heartbeat was loud in my head, and despite the beer I’d had, my mouth was dry.

  This was insane. It was pretend. Why the hell was I feeling so weird about it?

  I turned when I got to Smoke, giving him my back while I held my arms out. He put the vest on me, the leather hot and heavy against my spine.

  The brothers were shouting and cheering, raising their beer bottles or whatever else they were drinking into the sky.

  I couldn’t get a breath. The whole situation was freaking me out. This was what Mom had wanted—what she’d been desperate for Dad to give her—and now I had it. Now I was part of a club, even though it was the last thing in the world I wanted.

  Smoke’s hands settled on my shoulders and he turned me around. The stranger’s smile had gone. Now he simply looked intense, the way he’d looked right before he’d kissed me outside Lucky’s.

  My pulse began to go crazy as he lifted a hand, sliding his fingers around the back of my head, drawing me close. I wanted to push at him, keep the distance between us, because I wasn’t ready for this. But his mouth was on mine before I had a chance to do anything about it.

  It was another hot, possessive kiss that had my toes curling in my stilettos. And he wasn’t slow this time, or coaxing. His tongue pushed deep into my mouth, demanding and hungry, and all I could do was let him take whatever he wanted.

  People were shouting all around us and then the kiss was over. Smoke was lifting his head. His grin was pure triumph, pure satisfaction—almost the same as the grin that had lit his face the day he’d first brought his Harley home.

  The possessive hand at the back of my head dropped to my waist, curling around me as he brought me close to his side.

  I swallowed and muttered, ‘Now what?’

  People were starting to approach us, guys slapping Smoke on the back and congratulating him, calling him a sneaky motherfucker and then grinning at me.

  ‘Now we enjoy the party,’ he said, his arm like an iron bar around me.

  ‘Can’t I just go home?’

  ‘No.’ There was no arguing with that tone. ‘You want to make this look real? We have to make it look real.’ He glanced down at me, his black eyes glittering in the firelight. ‘Unless you want to go to my bedroom here?’

  My stomach lurched at the same time as an electric thrill shot through me. He was joking, of course. He had to be, didn’t he?

  I looked away, back at the crowds. ‘Uh...no, I’m fine.’

  The music thumped and the party started to get more raucous, as if Smoke’s announcement had been some kind of signal to finally go wild.

  Tiger had joined a group by the fire, all gathered around a short, curvy brunette in a tiny skirt and tank top who was grinding away to the music. As I watched, the brunette turned to Tiger and put her arms around his neck, her hips still grinding, giving him what was basically a vertical lap dance.

  She looked familiar to me for some reason.

  Tiger bent his head, whispering something in her ear, and she tipped her head back, laughing. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his zipper.

  Okay, now I recognised her. It was the woman I’d seen giving Smoke a blow job in the hallway.

  Beside me Smoke was easy, relaxed, and when I flicked a glance at him I saw he was watching the show the woman and Tiger were putting on. I found myself studying him for signs that he minded what was happening in front of us, but there was no jealousy in his face whatsoever.

  ‘It was just a blow job, Cat,’ he said, without looking at me, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’

  ‘I wasn’t... I mean, I didn’t...’ I couldn’t finish.

  He glanced down at me. ‘Are you jealous?’

  I could feel my cheeks heat. ‘No, don’t be stupid.’

  I turned back to the show by the fire. I didn’t want to watch what was going on in front of us—I really didn’t. Yet something in me wouldn’t let me look away as the woman began to give Tiger a blow job right in front of everyone.

  Smoke’s hand moved, sliding up to cup my breast.

  I went still, the breath catching in my throat.

  My blouse was very thin, and his hand felt like one of the coals from the fire, burning right through the material. Then his thumb brushed over my nipple. Electricity shot through me and I nearly gasped aloud. He began to circle my painfully hard nipple through my blouse slowly, lightly, and I shuddered before I could stop myself.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked thickly.

  He didn’t turn his head, his attention still on the show that was being performed in front of us. ‘Making it look real.’

  My mouth was dry and I couldn’t hear anything else through the sound of my heartbeat. There was a deep, aching pulse between my thighs, an intense pressure.

  Tiger drained his beer and tossed the bottle away, so he could put both hands in the woman’s hair, moving his hips faster.

  Don’t, I wanted to say to Smoke. Please don’t.

  I didn’t know why I didn’t. Because this was wrong—this shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be touching me and I shouldn’t be getting worked up ab
out it.

  But he was. His thumb was moving in slow, aching circles around my nipple, making me tremble, making it hard to breathe.

  This wasn’t making it look real. No one could see his hand, so what the hell was he doing?

  A blind, unreasoning panic squeezed my chest tight, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d jerked away from him, turning and shouldering my way through the crowd, heading towards the clubhouse. Someone called my name but I ignored them.

  I had no idea where I was going or why. I only knew I had to get away from what was happening in front of me, away from the woman and Tiger, and most of all away from Smoke. From the intense, hungry feeling that had wrapped its hands around my throat and refused to let go.

  There were crowds inside the corridors of the clubhouse, but I didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, walking blindly, not looking where I was going. I didn’t even have a direction. I only wanted to get away, find somewhere I could be alone and figure out what was happening to me.

  I didn’t realise I’d gone through the main set of clubrooms and into the back of the clubhouse, where all the bedrooms and other offices were, until the dim lighting and the lack of people brought me to a stop. There were lots of doors in the hallway and the sound of people talking behind them—other sounds, too, of pleasure.

  The place was familiar. And I knew why.

  ‘There’s a reason you came here,’ a voice said from behind me, deep and dark and full of rough heat. ‘Isn’t there, Cat?’

  Smoke. He’d followed me.

  I sucked in a ragged breath, my legs trembling. No, I had no idea why I’d come here—to the place where I’d found him getting a blow job from that woman. I should have gone out to the front, called a taxi and gone home.

  But I hadn’t.

  His footsteps sounded behind me and I tensed, but he walked past me, going down the hall a little way. Then he stopped and turned, leaning back against the wall, looking straight at me. His hands were in his pockets. There was nothing threatening in his stance. Yet I felt like he’d pinned me where I stood all the same.

  He’d brought the heat of the bonfire inside with him and the flames were flickering in his eyes.

  ‘Come here,’ he ordered softly.

  I couldn’t tell myself I didn’t know what was happening between us any more. I couldn’t tell myself this was only pretend. I couldn’t tell myself I didn’t want it more than I wanted my next breath either.

  I’d run from him, but I hadn’t run in the direction I should have. I’d run here.

  He was right—there was a reason for that.

  My feet were moving before I even knew what I was doing. I was walking towards him as if he had control of me, as if he was reeling me in like a fish on the end of a line. I stopped in front of him, my breath coming hard and fast in time with my hammering pulse.

  He looked calm and relaxed, leaning back against the wall. Except for his eyes. They burned so bright.

  ‘On your knees.’

  Again the order was soft, yet there was no denying the authority of it. I found myself doing exactly what he said, dropping to my knees in front of him.

  It seemed like years since the night I’d come here and found him getting blown by that woman. When my mind, the traitor, had wondered what it would be like to be that woman.

  Now I was going to find out.

  The thought made me dizzy.

  He lowered one hand and slid his fingers along my jaw. I shivered.

  ‘You know what to do, kitten.’

  I swallowed and reached to undo the top button of his jeans. My hands were shaking, but somehow I managed it. He put his own hand over mine, directing my fingers, helping me draw the zipper down.

  Oh, Jesus. I was going to do this right here, in the hallway, where anyone could find us. Just like I’d found him a week ago. Maybe I was drunk... Maybe I was stoned. Maybe I was insane.

  Maybe this is just what you’ve always wanted...

  His fly was undone now, and I could see his cock pressing against the black cotton of his boxers. He was hard.

  I felt weirdly disconnected from myself as he guided my hand inside his jeans, using his free hand to pull down the cotton. Then my fingers were sliding over his cock, lifting him out, and he was long and thick and hard. God, so hard.

  Someone was panting. It was me.

  I took him in my fist. His skin was hot and smooth and it felt like velvet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to taste something so badly in all my life. He guided my fingers up the length of him, and half of me was already a little insane with desire. The other half was horrified at what I was doing. His hand tightened around mine, making me squeeze him, but it was my thumb that rubbed over the slick head. The feel of him was so good.

  Dimly something screamed at me that this was Smoke, my best friend, and that sucking your best friend’s dick was pretty much guaranteed to ruin a perfectly good friendship. But I couldn’t seem to think about why that was.

  ‘Look at me.’ His voice had deepened, become thick and hoarse.

  I obeyed, letting the darkness and the flames in his eyes wash over me, consume me.

  ‘Suck me, Cat,’ he ordered.

  So I leaned in, inhaling the musky, woody scent that was all Smoke, and I opened my mouth, touched my tongue to the head of his cock, licking at him delicately. The salty flavour of him burst on my tongue and I heard the sudden harsh intake of his breath.

  ‘No. Put my cock in your mouth.’ There was a desperate edge to his words now. ‘Fucking do it, kitten.

  I didn’t hesitate, responding to him on the most basic level, taking him in as deep as I could, the size of him stretching my mouth wide, letting him nudge the back of my throat.

  He groaned. The sound was a caress, like he’d run his hand right the way down my naked body. It was the most unbelievably erotic thing I’d ever heard and I wanted more of it.

  I gripped his cock harder, squeezing as I sucked him, using the pressure, using my tongue, taking him even deeper.

  ‘Cat...’

  The sound of my name was threaded through with hunger. He took his hands out of his pockets and pushed his fingers into my hair, holding on so tight that prickles of pain erupted all over my scalp. Hairpins fell onto the floor as the weight of my hair fell out of its loose bun and slowly down my back. I didn’t care.

  He was holding me the way he’d been holding that woman, directing me the way he’d directed her. And the look in his eyes was the same—intense and so hungry I nearly caught fire.

  ‘You know...who I was...thinking about...when you saw me with her?’

  He knew what I was thinking about. Of course he did.

  ‘You, kitten. I was thinking about...you...’

  Shock coursed through me.

  Me. He’d been thinking about me.

  That meant something—something I wasn’t prepared to face just yet. So I ignored it. I concentrated instead on what I was doing: sucking him deep, pumping him with my fist, turning him inside out the way he’d been doing to me for the past week. Watching him as he groaned again, his head tipping back, exposing the strong muscles of his throat.

  ‘Oh, fuck... Cat...’

  The harsh edge in his voice was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard in my life. I could feel his hands in my hair trembling.

  I was doing this to him. This strong, immovable man. I was making him shake. I was making him desperate.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Lines of agonised pleasure were carved into his familiar, beautiful face, and the sounds that were coming from him—harsh and deep, ragged gasps of breath—made the ache between my thighs even worse.

  I didn’t want this to end. Because in that moment I felt more powerful than I ever had in my entire life.

  I thought being on your knees meant you were weak, that you were
beaten, with your eyes swelling shut and the sick, bitter taste of defeat in your mouth.

  Not here. Not now. Not with Smoke.

  No, Smoke made me feel like there was more to my power than I’d ever dreamed possible. But that was what he always did. He made me feel powerful even when I’d thought I wasn’t.

  His hands were tightening on my head and he began to direct my movements, flexing his hips, thrusting faster, harder, and I let him do it—let him take control of me.

  ‘Fucking look at me, Cat,’ he whispered roughly as I let my lashes fall shut. ‘I want your eyes up here.’

  So I looked at him, meeting the ferocious blackness in his gaze, holding it.

  This is going to change everything. Nothing will be the same again.

  I ignored that unwelcome thought and lost myself in my best friend’s dark eyes, watching as the climax hit him, as his head was thrown back as he called my name, raw and harsh, his fingers in my hair a sweet agony. As he came down the back of my throat and I swallowed everything he gave me.

  There was silence afterwards, broken only by the ragged sounds of his breathing and the thunder of my own heartbeat. I didn’t want to think about anything—not what was going to happen later, or what it meant for our friendship. What it would change and what it would break.

  Because something always got broken when lines were crossed. Always.

  His hold in my hair eased as he withdrew from my mouth, and I rested my cheek against the hot skin of his taut stomach and closed my eyes, feeling the flex and release of hard muscle in time with his breathing.

  I was aching, the pulse between my thighs heavy and insistent, but I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay here, in this peaceful moment, where it was just him and me and silence. Where we didn’t have to talk or angst about the choices we’d made... Where the only thing that mattered was the feel of his fingers in my hair, gently massaging my scalp.

  But of course it didn’t last.

  He was still semihard and getting harder with every second. Then the gentle hands in my hair weren’t so gentle any more as he pulled me to my feet.

  I looked up at him, abruptly panicking about what this would mean for our friendship, opening my mouth to tell him that we had to put this behind us, that we had to pretend it hadn’t happened. Yet before I could say anything he bent his head and his lips were on mine, the kiss forcing my head back, forcing my mouth to open for him.