Circle of Death (8 page)

I screw up every ounce of my courage as Devlin raises a flask to his perfect lips. His features look like they’ve been forged from iron, cast in the most brilliant and unforgiving of flames. Those high cheekbones, that sharp scruffy jaw, his straight nose and blazing eyes...I don’t think it’s the towering fire that’s getting me all hot and bothered.

Devlin’s gazes swings toward me and sticks. I watch, breathlessly, as he takes notice of me, standing all alone in front of the fire. Every other woman who arrived here tonight has been snatched up, but not me. It’s like he can sense that I’m holding out for his attention alone. He’s almost too gorgeous, too enticingly dangerous, to look at head-on, but I force my eyes to meet his. I can’t be the first to look away.

I watch as his focus bores into me like a laser. He’s intrigued by me, I can tell. I beam my invitation to him across the bonfire, the raucous goings-on around us fading into the background. He tucks his flask back into the pocket of his leather cut, and I note the patches he wears proudly on his chest. “Circle of Death MC” the first reads, and beneath it the singular word, “President”. If there was any doubt about this being the man I’m looking for, it’s gone now. He circles the fire, making his way toward me.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Devlin growls.

His rich, raspy voice sends a bolt of sensation down my spine. I ignore the rush of fear and excitement, and reach an even hand into his cut, snatching up the flask. Eager for a calming buzz, I knock back a swig of whiskey and shoot the MC President a wicked grin.

“Thanks,” I reply, craning my neck to take in the full, staggering form of him.

“My pleasure,” he grins back. “Now, what are you gonna give me in return?”

Brazenly, he places his hands on the points of my full hips. I have to force myself not to jump at his sudden advance. Still, can’t have him thinking I’m going to be some easy lay. I knock his hands away and take a step back.

“Sorry. I don’t think I happened to catch your name,” I remark, raising an eyebrow.

“Huh,” he scoffs, “This isn’t usually a place where names are traded, babe.”

“Humor me,” I say firmly.

“I’m Devlin,” he tells me proudly.

“Hi Devlin,” I say, forcing myself to keep breathing as his eyes skirt up and down the length of my scantily clad body. “I’m Logan.”

“Well Logan,” Devlin says, taking another step toward me, “Welcome to The Club. I bet you’re ready for a taste of the action out here. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t go to bed hungry. Trust me, I know how to fill a girl up.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” I whisper. “Or at least, I bet that’s what you think.”

“I don’t think, little girl. I know. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he laughs, tracing a finger down the bare length of my arm. “To spend the night with a real man? Someone who can really do a number on you?”

“Something like that,” I say, as nonchalantly as I possibly can. “Is that what you are? A
real
man?”

“You know I am. And it probably scares the shit out of you, doesn’t it? I bet you have no fucking idea what that’s like,” he growls, his sweet, spicy breath hot against my neck. “Being with a real man.”

“With all due respect,” I laugh lightly, ducking under his arm, “You don’t know the first thing about me. Or my life.”

“Sure I do. What, you think you’re mysterious to me or something?” he shoots back, catching my wrists in his vice-like hands. “The girls who come out here from the mainland all have the same story. My boys and I have only been out here a couple of weeks, but I catch on pretty quick.”

“Please let go of me,” I say firmly, tugging against Devlin’s unbreakable grip.

“You sail out here on your little pleasure cruises, bored with your frat boys and horny hipster man-children,” he goes on, amused by my fruitless attempts at escape. “You’re looking for something new. Something edgy. Something you can tell your sorority sisters about at the next cocktail mixer or whatever-the-fuck.”

“You’re way off,” I reply sharply. “That’s not me.”

“That’s you all over!” he crows, tugging me hard against his incredible body. “Come on. You don’t have to be shy, babe. I know it’s hard, saying what you really want out loud. Saying that all you want is for me to ride you dirty. Teach you what a good fuck is really like. Lucky for you, I can read your mind like an open book. And it’s one hot read.”

I let out a surprised yelp as I feel my feet leave the forest floor. The fireside scene goes topsy-turvy as Devlin slings me over his broad shoulder, running a hand up the back of my toned, bare thigh.

“Put me down, asshole!” I yell, pounding my fists against his leather-clad back. “What are you, a caveman or something?”

“Come on, live a little!” he crows, carrying me off toward the thick forest. All around, his MC buddies are pointing and laughing, cheering him on as he bears me off into the darkness. He strides along quickly, covering ground. With every step, the sounds of the bonfire fade a little more. Where the hell does he think he’s taking me?

“I mean it, Devlin,” I growl. “This is not what I’m here for.”

“Sure it is. You don’t have to be coy with me,” he insists, that hand gliding over the firm rise of my ass. “Trust me, babe. I know exactly what you—”

His words cut off into a groan as I cock back my knee and drive it into his gut. Finally, his arms loosen, and I tumble from his unwavering grasp. I dance beyond his reach as he straightens up, staring at me with a mixture of intrigue and awe. Plus a little indignation thrown in for good measure.

“There,” I breathe, straightening my clothes. “You know, if I wanted a bunch of sloppy horseplay, I could have just gone to the frat house. What, don’t you know how to get a girl without literally throwing her over your shoulder?”

“Little girl, I could land you from a hundred yards off just by looking at you the right way,” he grins, leaning back against a thick tree trunk and crossing his arms. “But, in my vast experience, most girls like getting swept of their feet. Or snatched off their feet, maybe.”

“Not this girl,” I inform him.

We’re off a ways from the rollicking party, just me and him. Away from the flickering, demonic flames, he certainly looks more like a real, human man. He’s still the most handsome person I’ve seen up close, that’s for sure. But he’s still mortal, and therefore, in theory, attainable.
I watch as he produces a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lights up. With each drag, his sculpted features are illuminated in the darkness. And each time, I feel a tug of desire in the very center of my gut. How am I supposed to investigate this guy if I can’t stop staring at him?

“So. Logan,” he says, exhaling a blue cloud of cigarette smoke, “You’re telling me that you brought that sexy little body all the way out here, to an island overrun with criminals and playboys, because you’re not looking for a one night stand with a dangerous, experienced older guy like yours truly?”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” I reply, amused by his sense of humor, despite myself. “I just don’t think there’s anything particularly sexy about getting dragged back by the hair to some dude’s man cave. I prefer to get to know a guy, first. Or at least trade more than a few grunted phrases before doing the nasty.”

He raises his scarred eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth twisting up in a smile. “Well, well. Looks like I was mistaken. You’re not like the girls we usually get out here, are you?” he asks, his voice lusciously low.

“Nope,” I say softly. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Fuck no,” he says, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “I’ve been getting a little bored of whiny college girls throwing themselves at me. Too fucking easy. You seem like more of a challenge. And I happen to like a little challenge.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” I laugh, planting my hands on my hips. “But if you’re trying to take on this particular challenge, you’re off to a rocky start.”

My breath catches in my throat as storm clouds roll through Devlin’s dark eyes. I need to watch myself, make sure I don’t push this guy too far. Sure, he’s handsome and charming, but he also runs a gang of outlaws and criminals. I’m out on this island alone, for all intents and purposes. If something happened to me, no one would notice until it was way too late. Have to remember who I’m dealing with, here.

“You know I could stroll over to that gaggle of girls who just rolled in and land any one I wanted, right?” he challenges me, crushing the cigarette beneath the heel of his steel-toed boot. “Hell, I could snag three of them at the same time and really have myself a party.”

“But you’re not interested in the rest of the girls,” I point out, clasping my hands behind my back. “You’re interested in me.”

“You’re a fuckin’ mind reader, babe,” he grins, closing the space between us.

I back up against a wide birch trunk, flattening my back against the smooth wood. My heart beats wildly against its cage as Devlin comes closer. Unbidden, the image of him pushing me up against this tree and having his way with me springs to mind. I shake my head, dislodging the surprising image. I’m not usually one to get swept up in the heat of the moment. But then again, I’ve never encountered a moment—or a man—this hot before.

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you are looking for, if not a stiff cock and a quick fuck in the woods?” Devlin growls, planting a hand just over my shoulder. There’s barely a foot of space between us, and it takes every ounce of my concentration to form a reply.

“For starters...you mentioned a drink?” I say softly, lifting my face to his.

Devlin throws back his head and lets out a bark of laughter. Slipping his thick, corded arm around my waist, he steers me back toward the bonfire in the clearing. “Finally. Something we can both get into,” he says. “Besides, you’ll need a little
lubrication
before you’re ready for me.”

“Ew,” I say, punching him in the arm and biting back my smile.

As we step back out of the forest into the light of the flames, my jaw nearly hits the leafy ground. All around the fire, the girls I showed up to The Club with are sprawled across the laps of MC dudes. Gone are any inhibitions they brought to the island with them. Kari has her tongue down the throat of some guy with a blonde crew cut, Brie is straddling the grizzled man who seemed to terrify her not moments before, and Ani is topless, grinding up against the most model-esque of the MC members. It’s like all of the girls have fallen under a spell or something.

“Christ,” I mutter, “That didn’t take long.”

“This place has an...intense effect on all the people who seek it out,” Devlin says, tightening his grip on my waist. “Except for you, right?”

“You don’t seem too terribly bewitched yourself,” I reply, glancing up at him in the orange light.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmurs in my ear, letting his hands wander all over my body. “But it’s not The Club that’s got me reeling, babe. It’s you.”

“Sweet talk,” I grin, daring to let my fingers glance against his hard chest. “You’re making some real progress, Devlin.”

He tugs me firmly against his side, as if guarding me from the drunken, horny dudes that rove and stumble around the fire.

“Here’s the first thing you should know about me,” he says, his voice low and hoarse, “I don’t do sweet talk. Perish the fucking thought.”

For the first time, I notice the rough wooden bar built into the woods before us. I examine the setup as we make our way over. At first glance, the bar is little more than a long wooden slab propped up by some hewn logs. But behind it, obscured by some foliage, stand shiny industrial fridges and tools—real state of the art equipment. Turning back toward the fire, I see that it’s not haphazard at all, but a carefully constructed blaze arranged in a well-made, carefully disguised fire pit. All of the rustic touches around this place are just for show. I wonder if the owners swap out the aesthetic for every group that rolls in here; bonfires for the bikers, infinity pools for the coddled bankers, that sort of thing.

“What’ll it be, you two?” asks the bartender, a bottle blonde beauty who happens to be topless. Naturally.

“Whiskey neat,” I tell her.

Devlin raises his eyebrows at me. “Whiskey? Christ. No girly drinks for you, huh?”

“Not on your life,” I smile back.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you? Make it two whiskeys,” Devlin tells the woman. “And make them doubles.”

With a placid grin, she produces a bottle of incredibly expensive booze and pours us each a deep glass. My eyes pop open, imagining what those drinks must cost. I’m not in the practice of letting guys buy my rounds for me. Better start practicing now.

“Aren’t we going to toast?” I ask Devlin, as he makes to shoot back the smoky booze in one big gulp.

He looks down at me as though I’ve just spoken French. “Toast? Where the fuck do you think you are?” he laughs.

“Come on. Here’s to...?” I prod him, swallowing a smile.

Devlin looks me up and down, his gaze leaving trails of heat as it glances against my bare skin. “What are you doing, trying to make me jump through hoops for you or something?” he asks suspiciously.

“Maybe,” I shrug. I’m having way too much fun with this assignment already. Holding the attention of a man like Devlin makes me feel powerful. Poised. In control.

“Fine. Jesus,” he replies, raising his glass gamely. “Here’s to you, Logan. The strangest, sexiest girl I’ve run into on this rock.”

“Now that, I’ll drink to,” I laugh, clinking my glass against his.

The whiskey burns deliciously as it slides down my throat, warming me from the inside out.

“Atta girl. Now come on,” Devlin says, catching my wrist in his strong hand and giving me tug away from the bar.

“Where are you taking me now?” I ask, planting my feet.

“You’re going to finish that whiskey and dance with me,” he replies, brushing a lock of black hair away from my face. “And don’t bother refusing. I’m done taking no for an answer.”

I let Devlin tow me away from the group of girls and bikers gathered around the fire. My heart lodges itself in my throat as I see where’s he’s leading me—straight toward the sprawling, centuries-old fortress that has come to house The Club. I drain the rest of my strong liquor, jonesing for an extra ounce of liquid courage. I have a feeling that I’m going to need it.