Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2)

  “Hey!” I swing my hands around her neck and she pulls me in tighter for a hug.

  “Where were you?? You left your poor sister here!” she says before looking over my shoulder. I assume that was Hella who just walked through the doors. Her mouth sets into a smirk. “Oh, I see.”

  I roll my eyes. “No, not like that,” I answer before walking toward the sofa and dropping down beside Millie. “Hey, you okay?” I ask her.

  She nods. “Yeah. Where are we staying tonight?”

  “With me!” Jada exclaims, sitting next to me.

  “You sure?” I ask her.

  “Yeah! There’s a spare room with a double bed you can both crash in.”

  “Okay, thanks. How have you been? How’s Garret?” I take another sip of my drink before placing it down onto the little coffee table. “And where the hell is Meadow?” I look around the room, scanning to see where she is when I catch Hella watching me, his drink just short of his mouth with Ripper sitting next to him. My cheeks heat and my palms quiver with sweat. His eyes set as if he knows exactly the kind of effect he has on me, and a small sexy grin appears before he downs the rest of his drink. I drag my hungry eyes away from the culprit before I continue my search.

  Jada’s voice breaks my hormonal charge by yelling into my ear over the blaring sound of Disturbed’s “You’re Mine” filling the atmosphere. What’s with the playlist? It’s like the universe is on Hella’s side and they’re playing every song they can just to mess with me. If the universe is a woman, that would make sense; all the man has to do is talk with his sexy fucking voice and women get wet. It’s entirely unfair. Yeah, not fair at all.

  “Meadow will be with Beast. She never leaves his side unless the boys go on a run.”

  “Jesus,” I whisper. “She needs a girls’ night.”

  Jada nods her head in agreement. “She does. They’re joined at the hip.”

  “Shall we go? Garret is at a friend’s house tonight, so we can take our drinks back to mine. It’ll be more fun there.”

  I nod my head. “How’d you get here?”

  She points to Skid, one of the prospects. “He drove me over. I’ll get him to take us.” She pushes herself off the sofa and walks toward Skid, Ripper, and Hella.

  I look toward Millie. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, her shoulders relaxed. “I’m okay. Jada is nice.”

  “Jada is nice,” I agree behind a small chuckle, because if Millie knew Jada’s story, I’m not sure her opinion would still stand.

  I look up to where Jada is to see Skid handing the keys to Hella.

  Oh, crap.

  They both walk back towards us.

  “Come on,” Jada says, helping me off the sofa. “Let’s get drunk at home.”

  Hella’s eyes follow me the entire time. Even when we hit outside, his eyes are still following me. When Jada and Millie are a few steps ahead of us, his hand finds mine and my stomach flutters as he pulls me back against his chest. “Stay with me.”

  “What?” I whisper, my head turned slightly over my shoulder.

  “Stay with me,” he repeats softly into my ear.

  “No, I can’t. It’d be too obvious.”

  I pull my hand out of his grip and quickly catch up to Jada and Millie. Truthfully, I want to. The thought of having Hella within reach anytime I want turns me on, but I don’t trust him. I don’t trust that he’s being sincere with his declaration. Under it all, I keep thinking that this is his way of fucking with me some more. Jada skips past the van and walks towards a gloss-red old muscle car. I don’t know much about cars, but I know that this is a Dodge Charger, one of the older ones. I only know this because one of the Sinful Souls boys back home in Westbeach has a black one.

  I go to jump in the back with Millie when Hella points to the passenger side. “In the front.”

  My shoulders drop in defeat and I look to Jada, mouthing, “Sorry.” She shrugs with a smirk and an added wink, sliding into the back. I pull open the door and click my seatbelt on, already over Hella’s caveman antics.

  When he pulls out of the clubhouse, Jada is the first to break the tension. “Garret said Hellraiser is finished?”

  Hellraiser is Hella’s bike. Though I’m not sure what he would have needed done, it’s the sexiest bike I had ever seen, painted in gloss red, the same color as this car—and hell. I chuckle to myself at my revelation.

  Hella looks into the rearview mirror toward Jada, one hand relaxed on the wheel, his other hand on his knee while leaning to the side. “Yeah, it’s finished.”

  “You take it home or leave it there?”

  “Home.”

  Millie clears her throat from the back. “Isn’t this the same car Chase had?” she asks innocently, and bless her heart because she has no idea how much I wanted to burst out laughing. Hella is mistaken if he thinks I’ll surrender myself fully to him right away. His grip around the steering wheel tightens as the deep rumble of the V8 engine vibrates under my seat. He tilts his neck, stretching it out slightly. I can hear his counting to ten from here.

  The chuckle wiggles its way out of my mouth. “Nah, that was a Bumble Bee.”

  “A Bumble Bee?” Hella asks, watching me closely before taking his eyes back to the road.

  “Yeah, you know, the Transformer.”

  “Isn’t your best friend the biggest car enthusiast in the northern hemisphere? You should know that Bumble Bee’s a Chevy Camaro,” he says, looking to me, his eyes dark and his jaw taut. He’s mad.

  I smile, my tone sweet. “Sorry, couldn’t tell what it was from the back seat.”

  The car skids to a halt and Jada screeches out, “Hella! What the fuck!”

  “Get out,” he growls to Jada as the engine idles loudly on its spot.

  Jada looks between us and grabs Millie’s hand. “Fine! It’d be really great if you two could fuck each other out of each other’s system, though!”

  I look up to the house lights that are merely a one minute walk from where we are and the car door slams shut behind Mille and Jada’s exit.

  Hella turns to face me. “You think this is a joke?”

  I roll my eyes. “No, Hella, I don’t, but I don’t believe a word you say either.”

  He reaches over and unbuckles my belt before unlatching his and moving his seat back. He grasps onto my hand and pulls me toward him. I follow his command, climbing on top so I’m straddling his waist. His hands skim lightly down my back before gripping onto my ass. He directs my hips to roll over the outline bulge of his cock and I bite down on my lip to stop my purring at his every touch. Weak. I whisper internally to myself, but again, not caring. His hand slides down inside the front of my jeans and then my underwear, past my pleading nub, and dipping into the soaking wet walls of my pussy. I lightly ride over his fingers, pushing them deeper inside me, and he smirks. Pulling his hand back out, he brings his glistening fingers to my lips, running the wet tips over the rim before pushing them into my mouth. “That’s the taste of who owns you.” And I can, I can taste him more than I can taste me.

  I need to take charge of the situation, even if it’s just a little. I swirl my tongue around his fingers, sucking our arousal from earlier off his fingers, and begin grinding against his bulge. He reaches down to his buckle and removes his belt, pushing his jeans down, and I bring my lips down to his, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth as he pushes my jeans off me. I lower myself over his awaiting cock and moan in ecstasy once he fills me. Bringing my hips up, I slowly lower myself down and watch as he completely disarms himself at my very hands. With every deep thrust, his thick cock head rubs viciously over my G-spot in such a way that has me caught in a web of lust and seduction that I never want to leave. His groan vibrates against my lips, his head resting back on the headrest. My hand travels down to his jeans until I find the holster that carries his knife, sliding it out slowly all while keeping to my slow and torturous pace.

  I raise the heavy blade up to his neck and his eyes open slowly as
a deep chuckle echoes through his chest.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask, running the sharp blade over his tattooed neck, up towards his equally inked jawline.

  “It’s cute, the fact that you thought I didn’t know you were reaching for that,” he answers, guiding my hips, unfazed by the sharp military knife in my hand.

  I press the blade back against his neck, picking up my pace. Sweat beads off my forehead and drips onto his face. I bring my lips back to his, all while the blade stays put. I continue to grind on his dick, putting everything I have into our kiss. Our tongues clash together passionately, desperately. Not once do we break our connection, and when my orgasm and his clash together, my legs quiver, my arms shake, and a static buzz sounds out behind my ears from the tremors of our fucking. I drop onto his chest, catching my breath. Once I’ve calmed down enough to find my pants, I push off his chest and gasp in shock.

  “Holy shit!” I whelp, my hand flying to my mouth. “I cut you!” And I did. I cut him quite bad, too. In the haze of our fucking, I must have let it slip.

  Hella laughs, his broad shoulders jolting under his shrug. “No worries. I probably deserved that.”

  I flick my fingers toward his chest. “No, it’s pretty bad.”

  He adjusts the rearview mirror to face him and rolls his eyes. “Not that bad. It’ll be gone tomorrow.”

  My eyes scan over his face before bringing them back to the light slit I had placed over his collar bone, and before I can register what I’m doing, my head drops down as I lower my lips to the cut, dragging my tongue across the bright red slit I had imprinted into his flesh. The metallic sting sits on the tip of my tongue, igniting a spark of raw passion from inside my chest. I bring my head back to face him. His eyes are like a thunderstorm on a snowy blizzard day, the blue rims of his depths darkening in hunger. When I attempt to climb off his lap, his cock pushes against my walls and his hand flies up to the back of my neck. “Yeah, not gonna happen, babe.”

  I laugh, wrapping my hands back around his neck before bringing my lips to his. I think Jada is right; I think we do need to fuck each other out of each other’s systems, and I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.

  Melissa

  After Hella took me back to the house last night, I powered through a shower and told the girls I was hitting bed early to stop any questions. I’m sure Jada knows about what’s going on between me and Hella, but I’m not ready to answer any questions yet. At least, not until I finally know what it is we are doing.

  I’m downstairs eating granola when my phone dings. My nerves contract, hoping it’s not Chase. I’m not ready to touch that either. Taking my phone off the table, after staring at it for a few minutes, I open the message.

  Unknown: How’s my favorite pussy?

  I smile, knowing that it must be Hella. I gave him my cell last night so if I need anything, he’s there. I’m sure he didn’t mean protection, either. Hella is by far the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. All that on top of his charm and swagger, he’s flawlessly damaging and lethal to girls like me who devour the bad boys. But I can’t help it; I love the way his eyes blaze and his jaw compresses when he’s mad.

  Me: Chase? I thought I scared you off with my explicit sext reply last night….

  Silence.

  Minutes tick by and I’m about to place my phone back onto the table when it dings with another message. The content loads and I know he’s sent me an MMS. I chew on my lip nervously, unsure what he’s about to throw at me. When it finally opens, I almost choke on my granola. My hand flies up to my mouth just as Jada walks into the kitchen.

  “Morning!” she chirps. I quickly shove my phone into my pocket. Now I’ll have the image of Hella’s tight tattooed six-pack tensing from where he shot the photo with his massive cock in his hands, a bead of pre-cum hanging on the end of his dick with the caption “This look like Chase to you?” underneath it. My core tightens at the thought of working my tongue over the top of his cock, sucking the glistening evidence off of his tip and taking his thick length deep into my throat until it’s stretching at the seams. My eyes close briefly, a moan hanging off the rim of my lips.

  “Melissa?” Jada repeats, and it’s then that I realize she’s been talking to me the whole time. I’ve been so caught up in my cock-induced daydream that I haven’t been listening.

  “Sorry, what?” I quip innocently, collecting my bowl and walking towards the sink.

  Her eyes slant in suspicion. “What’s going on with you and Hella?”

  I laugh nervously, brushing her off. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Bullshit,” she scoffs. “Look.” She walks toward the table, patting the seat next to her. “No bullshit?” Her eyebrows quirk up in question.

  I pour some coffee into a mug and walk back to the table, sitting down while clutching my cup. I nod. “No bullshit.”

  “Hella is a really good guy now. Don’t get me wrong…”

  I interrupt her over the rim of my cup. “Now?” I ask, blowing on the hot coffee, steam traveling up and warming the tip of my nose. “I mean, I don’t think I ever considered Hella a good man, but you say now like he used to be worse than he is now. Didn’t think that’d be possible.”

  She giggles lightly. “Oh, it’s possible. I’ll get to why in a second, but before I tell you this story, I want you to understand that although some of his tendencies are still there, under it all, he’s a good man to those he cares about, and that’s about a handful of people, not including his brothers.”

  I lower my coffee, intensifying my stare. “Is this going to scare me?”

  She smiles furtively. “Maybe. But I’m going to tell you so that you can see how he is with you, to how he was back then, and then maybe you’ll know a little about his darkness.”

  My eyes explore the room before finding their way back to hers. “Alright then. Pull out the rum first, and then let’s get to it.”

  She laughs, pushing her seat back and pulling the rum down from the top cabinet along with two glasses. She takes a seat back down and slides my filled glass towards me. After pouring her glass, she shoots it back, then places it on the table. “Okay, where do I begin…”

  Jada

  Twelve years ago

  The smell of the rain hitting the asphalt inundated my senses as I ran towards my white Bedouin tent. The base had around thirty of them all in a line at the back of the main headquarters, which was actually an old prison. The entire compound of The Army was surrounded by high barbwire fences and a guard on each side. I still didn’t understand why I’d been bought here. I’m still trying to grasp the fact that my mother was the daughter of the Oyabun for Yamaguchi-gumi yakuza family, thus making her a mafia princess. I had so many questions about why they ordered a hit on her, though I assumed it had something to do with her finding comfort with my father, an American man. I walked into the tent I had been running towards and removed my jacket, throwing it across the room. I had been here for two weeks now, learning how to train in their way of fighting. My lead master, Kurr, had assigned me to a katana. I had never picked up a katana in all my life, but the moment I held it in my hand, I knew that it was my weapon.

  112 looked up from his book about mechanics and how to take apart and rebuild a motorcycle.

  “Can I help you?” he questioned with a smirk.

  I was a little unsure of his mental capacity. Physically? I knew what he was capable of from watching him in training. I had been watching him closely, him and 316.

  I walked closer to his bed and swallowed down the nerves that were on the verge of rising up my throat. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Oh really?” He grinned, rising up from the bed and walking toward me until his broad, naked chest was flush against my body. He was the same age as me, maybe a couple years older, but his life experience far outlived my own; you could see it in his eyes. His eyes held untold stories, stories I’m sure our parents used to scare us with when we were children.
“One question,” he added. I stared into his bright blue eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. “How badly do you want to jump on my dick? Because this brushing yourself against me every chance you get during training, and now coming into my tent, is leaving me sexually frustrated and I don’t think you’re ready for sexually-frustrated Hella.”

  I paused. “Your name’s Hella?”

  “One of them. The best part about coming from no family? You get to make shit up as you go.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He tilted his head, a smirk sprawling across his mouth and showing a dimple on each cheek. He might’ve just been the best looking boy I had ever seen. “Bit easy, wasn’t it? Not going to play hard-to-get?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m vulnerable here, in my position. If I’m a virgin, that risks someone raping me and losing it with no dignity. I at least want to be in control of one decision while I’m here.”

  A snicker vibrated over my flesh, his arm wrapping around my waist and his nose gliding down my earlobe as he growled, “What makes you think you’ll have your dignity after I’m finished with you?”

  I swallowed. Maybe I had made a bad decision. I should’ve went to 316, only he talked to no one and was scary in a different way to 112. 112 was scary in a psycho way, a way where you knew he drew no lines. He’d end anyone in his path without so much as batting an eye. With 316? It was something else entirely, a silent killer.

  “Don’t care. Take it. I still made the decision to come here. That was still my own. What you do to me from here on out is up to you entirely.”

  His eyes flared with excitement. I could’ve slapped myself. Stupid choice of words those were.

  “You’re going to regret that, baby.”

  After removing my clothes, he pushed me down onto his bed and removed his top while unbuckling his jeans. Stepping out of them and his briefs, my eyes widened in horror. “Holy shit. How is that supposed to fit in here?” I pointed to my exposed lady part.