Death Layer (The Depraved Club) (18 page)

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Authors: Celia Loren,Colleen Masters

BOOK: Death Layer (The Depraved Club)
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Epilogue

 

 

The otherworldly blue of the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of
Nova Scotia is hard to look at directly, too bright, and mind-numbingly teal.
The buff sandbar of the quiet beach stretches for what looks like miles below
our perch in the hotel nestled on the emerald green cliffs, giving us a
birds-eye view of Prospect Bay. Purple and pink heather and yellow-blooming
shrubs litter the sloping hills and gulls are singing above, the sound and
smell of the sea washing in through our open balcony door. I can see it all
without leaving my bed.

Jenny is curled up in a content napping ball on the balcony,
her pink canine nose buried in her legs in almost the same shape as I am in
before I push myself up to sit and stare out the open glass doors.

It’s a breathtakingly beautiful, serene view. But more than
the beauty, what stands out to me is that everything looks clean. After being a
prisoner of Death Layer Motorcycle Club and a fugitive traveling for seemed
like days at sea, everything in Nova Scotia looks clean, brand-new, as if the
sea has polished it until it’s a newly invented color.

Between the pristine views and the lack of pain and
suffering, I half-think I must be hallucinating. This can’t be real. Sighing, I
wrap my arms around my knees, hugging them into myself, and lean my cheek on my
knee. My own skin is warm against itself and smells like the hotel soap. This
is definitely real. Wow. I could stare and stare at this view.

I feel Bane’s hand on the small of my back and feel a
reactionary burst of pleasure bloom between my legs. All it takes is one touch,
one look, and I’m wet and hot for him. I twist around, freeing the sheets until
I can lay my bare breasts against his back. Inhaling the thick, manly scent of
him, my body hums with excitement.

“Good morning, Mr. Davies,” I murmur, nibbling his ear.

“Good morning, Ms. Kent,” he rumbles back sleepily.

“What do you want to do today?” I whisper. I flick my tongue
into his ear, causing a sharp intake of breath.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs, “Let’s start with this.”

His arm snares me, pulling me under his body as his mouth
claims mine, his tongue dipping under mine heavily. He tastes like steel and
pine, clean and rugged and wild—like a man.

“Oh, Bane…”

His hands move instinctively to cover my breasts and squeeze,
the roughness and size of his hands thrilling. I can feel the amazing hardness
of his cock, morning wood as he calls it. With sensual smoothness he expertly
parts my thighs with his knee and finds his way between my legs. His kisses
burn along the soft vulnerability of my throat. I’m already soaking wet for
him.

Without warning, he thrusts the entire length of his cock
inside as he bites playfully down on my lip.

“Holy fuck,” I moan.

“Good morning,” he groans.

His hips are thrusting slowly against me, and I can feel
every sensation and movement of his dick as he sheathes himself to the hilt and
slowly withdraws, only to rock into me again. It’s delicious, decadent, and
devastating.

My surprised body shivers, aching for more, and my fingers
dig pleadingly into his shoulders as I curl up against him, moaning in
pleasure. The friction and heat between us is intense, and I get wetter and
wetter with each of his thrusts.

He pulls me up until I am sitting in his lap, his cock deep
inside me, my legs wrapped around him like a pretzel. The angle is intense for
both of us and we’re gasping and humping and clinging together. I can feel his
powerful thighs contracting beneath my hips, bouncing me on him. Each time he
moves his cock pushes deeper inside.

His strong arms are wrapped around my back and I move into
them, arching. Greedily, his mouth swoops down to suck and tease one nipple,
grazing until it firms into a sensitive and hard peak.

“I love having you in my mouth,” he groans.

I’m so sensitive, each touch of his lips and tongue on my
nipples makes me tingle and burn all the way to my clit. Hungry, he reaches
down and strokes me there at that most sensitive spot until I’m driven over the
edge of sanity. Bane’s banging my g-spot and sucking my breasts, his thumb
wreaking havoc on my clit.

“Oh my god,” I moan. “Yes…Oh God, baby, yes…”

I cum, a tidal wave of shivering heat that rips through my
body from toes to scalp and I swear to god my hair stands on end. For a second
I can’t breathe, I can’t move.

“Oh, Jesus!” Bane groans.

I know he likes to watch me cum, so I open my eyes to meet
his gaze at the peak of my orgasm, showing him everything I feel.

Straining his hips into me, he shakes his head in wonder as
his face twists in release. We cling onto each other, shivering, and our lips
lock in a deep and wet kiss. His grasp on my back loosens until his fingertips
are light, stroking my skin reverently. I bury my face in his shoulders,
spreading my fingers over the firm ridges of his chest. It feels like home here,
with his cock still inside me and his scent washing over and his touch and his
possession.

“That’s how we’ll start every day,” Bane promises. “And
after that, everything else. We’ll do everything else in the world. This is
just the beginning, baby.”

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

Prologue

Off the coast of New England...

 

 

My slender fingers tighten around the cold metal railing as
the yacht skips over a tall, surging wave. A spray of salt water dashes itself
across my cheek as my long black hair whips wildly in the wind. I’m standing
right at the bow of this luxurious vessel, scanning the horizon for a glimpse
of dry land. The rocky coastline disappeared from view in our wake after what
felt like the blink of an eye. This whole insane undertaking is unfolding more
quickly than I ever could have imagined. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be
able to keep my head above water and see my assignment through. But as I glance
around at the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean, I know one thing for certain:

There’s no turning back now.

A loud burst of music washes over the topside deck, followed
by a chorus of tipsy giggles. I glance over my shoulder as a trio of gorgeous
young women stumble through a swinging door and out into the open air,
scattering my solitude to the salty wind. Ah, well. If I wanted peace and
quiet, I could have stayed back in Boston like the good girl I’ve always been.
Up until now, that is.

“Logan! What’re you doing out here all alone?” asks one of
the girls, a leggy blonde named Brie. “The party’s just getting started below
deck.”

“I’m saving up my energy for the island,” I tell her,
pretending not to mind when she sloshes a bit of piña colada onto my black
miniskirt.

“That’s fair,” nods Ani, a pixie-like brunette who’s also
decided to give the wild side a try. “From what I’ve heard about The Club,
you’re gonna need all the energy you can muster. The guys there are supposed to
be pretty ruthless.”

“Here’s hoping!” crows the third girl, a petite redhead
named Kari. “If I’m not completely spent in an oversexed haze by the time
morning rolls around, I’m asking for my money back.”

“Kari, you’re so bad!” Brie squeals, her blue eyes going
wide as saucers. “I still can’t believe you talked us into this.”

“Oh please, Brie,” Kari laughs, rolling her eyes, “You’ve
been going on about this place for years, now.”

“Ever since we were lowly little freshmen,” Ani grins,
taking a long swig of her cocktail. “Don’t tell me this isn’t the best
graduation present of all time.”

“I know you’re right,” Brie sighs, leaning unsteadily
against the railing, “I guess I’m just a little...nervous. It’s been nothing
but preppy frat boys for me for the last four years. This is going to
be...quite the change of pace.”

“Scared you won’t be able to handle a real man?” Ani teases.

“Maybe a little,” Brie admits.

“Don’t worry,” Kari says, looping an arm around her blonde
friend’s waist, “We’ll all look out for each other. We won’t let any of the
big, bad bikers bite. Not too hard, anyway.”

“I have to say,” Ani remarks, swinging her gaze my way, “I
was a little surprised when you asked to come along tonight, Logan.”

“Yeah,” Kari agrees, cocking her head at me, “You never seemed
like much of a party girl in school.”

“What can I say,” I shrug, smiling as gamely as I can,
“People change, I guess.”

The girls accept my vague answer and fall into giddy
speculation about what the night has in store for us. I hardly knew any of them
while we were undergrads together in Boston. But the second I caught wind of
their plans to visit The Club as a graduation treat, they became my most
valuable of acquaintances. It’s not just any pretty young thing who can get an
invite to The Club, after all. A joy ride on this yacht is damn near impossible
to score, unless you know the right people. Lucky for me, these three happen to
be the exact right people. Talk about alumni networking, huh?

“Oh my god,” Brie breathes, nearly dropping her cocktail overboard,
“There it is!”

I jerk my gaze back toward the horizon and feel my heart
lodge firmly in my throat. There in the distance, a long strip of land rises up
from the churning sea. In the gathering twilight, the island looks
unremarkable. A jagged shoreline gives way to a thickly-forested rise. Just
visible above the tree line is the imposing watchtower of an old military base.
From my research, I know that this fort dates back to the days of the American
Revolution. But this island is no place for a history buff’s field trip these
days, that’s for sure.

As the yacht skims across the gray Atlantic waters toward
the island, a low thudding sound makes my ears prick up. The rhythm pulses more
deafeningly with every passing moment. I wonder, for a second, if we’re not
experiencing engine trouble. But when the crashing cacophony of hard rock
sweeps in to complete the soundscape, I realize that I’m hearing a heavy bass
line raging from the shore of the island. We hear the party before we see it,
and I know this is my last chance to bail—to let the other dozen girls go on
ahead of me and scurry back to shore with my tail between my legs.

But then I think, for a second, about what I’d be running
back to. A cramped two bedroom apartment, unpaid bills, a fruitless job hunt,
an ever-dwindling bank account...I have to own up to the fact that I’ve got
nothing to go back to. Nothing at all to lose. There was a time when that
thought would have saddened me. But now, I realize that dwelling on my
loneliness and fear won’t get me anywhere. I have to face them head on. Face
this place head on. Take action for the first time in my life. And if I end up
getting destroyed in the process...Well, at least I will have lived through
something.

A long, shrill boat whistle cuts through the misty air as
the yacht pulls up to a creaky dock that leads onto the island. I stand rooted
firmly to the deck as the full, chaotic scene raging on the island comes into
view, unfolding before my baffled eyes.

At the center of a large clearing in the woods, a massive
bonfire roars, sending fierce flames leaping and licking into the darkening
night sky. Dozens of shadowy figures writhe and swarm in the fire light,
undulating to the heavy, pulsating music blaring out across the water. Glass
bottles catch the glow of the bonfire as they’re raised to thirsty lips, and a
score of smoldering cigarette tips light up in the darkness like a swarm of
devilish fireflies.

Lengths of bare limbs and torsos glow and glisten in the red
light of the fire. Men and women are laid out across every surface in sight,
having at each other without any inhibitions. It’s a goddamn orgy—and we’re
about to charge right into the middle of it.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Brie whispers in a panic as
we make our way out onto the flimsy deck.

We join a handful of other young women, huddled together
before the intimidating scene unfolding before us. Not a single one of us has
cleared her early twenties. Hell, some of us are barely eighteen. But there’s
one thing we all have in common: we’re here to spend a night among the
toughest, most dangerous, sexiest men we’re likely to ever meet.  Each of
us made the decision to come here of her own free will. We all have different
motives for seeking this place out—escape, adventure, curiosity. Me, I’m here
in search of answers that have long eluded me. Answers about my past that might
just end up shaping my future. And I’m not leaving until I’ve found them.

I feel the group of girls tighten around me as the yacht
pulls away, leaving us to face the night on our own. As one, we turn our gaze
toward the island, toward the place we’ve only ever heard about in whispers and
rumors. The place simply called The Club. When I first heard of this
one-of-a-kind spot, I wondered about it’s nondescript name. But what I’m
quickly coming to understand is that The Club defies all other description. It
has to be seen to be believed.

“Ladies!” calls a booming voice from just beyond my field of
vision.

The yellow glow of a rusty lantern cuts through the darkness,
illuminating the swaggering form of the large man making his way toward our
little pack. His wide, wily grin is the first thing I notice. But it’s not just
his teeth that are huge. Every bit of his body seems to be super-sized, from
his bulging biceps to this bushy beard. He’s the closest thing to a giant I’ve
ever seen up close. But something tells me he’s not likely to be a giant of the
“gentle” variety.

The towering man looms over the group, a good foot taller
than any of us, stilettos notwithstanding. He wears his long hair pulled back
into a ponytail, a sleeveless leather vest over a white tank, and well-worn
blue jeans. The steel toes of his boots gleam even in the darkness. He surveys
each of our eager, upturned faces, nodding his approval.

“Good pickings tonight,” he grins, rubbing a hand through
his sandy blonde beard, “The guys are going to be pretty fucking stoked about
you lot.”

A nervous titter runs through the group, but I can already
feel the bodies around me beginning to relax. Despite this man’s dangerous
edge, there’s something strangely comforting about his demeanor.

“My name’s Titan,” he goes on, “I’m what you might call the
welcoming committee. It’s my job to make sure things at The Club run smoothly.
Make sure everyone’s having a good time. That’s what you girls are here for,
isn’t it? A good time?”

“That’s right,” pipes Kari.

“Uh-huh,” adds Ani.

“Well, then you’ve certainly come to the right place,” Titan
assures us, spreading his brawny arms wide, “I promise you, this will be a
night you remember for the rest of your lives. Now, why don’t you follow me,
and we’ll get this party started?”

We hurry to follow Titan as he strides away, leading us
toward the pulsing, pounding heart of the party. As we make our way deeper into
the thick woods, I see that the very shadows are alive with orgiastic abandon.
My jaw nearly hits the rocky ground as I spot a naked woman pinned up against
an ancient oak tree by her muscled mate, their hips bucking wildly as their
cries of ecstasy are swept up by the rollicking music. I watch as Brie catches
sight of the couple, all color draining at once from her face. One thing’s
becoming clearer by the moment—The Club is no place for the faint of heart.

I feel the heat of the bonfire before we’ve even stepped
into the clearing. The crackling flames sear through the summer air, sending a
thick cloud of smoke rolling over the treetops. Titan turns to face the group
of us as we fan out along the fire pit.

“Here you are girls,” he roars above the cacophony of raised
voices and blasting music, “Grab a drunk, grab a joint, grab a guy, and have
at!”

A cheer goes up from the assembled pack of men and women all
around us, all craning their necks for a view of the new goods.

“Christ, do I love me some fresh meat,” growls a tall,
wolfish man from behind us. He slips his arms around Kari’s slender waist,
tugging her tightly against his ripped body. “And you look tasty enough to
devour, little girl.”

 “Do your mommies and daddies know where you are
tonight, little ones?” sneers a barrel chested man with a wild mane, tucking a
lock of Brie’s hair behind her ear.

“Be nice now,” Titan cautions the circling men, “These girls
are our guests tonight. Let’s make them feel nice and welcome.”

At his command, the swarm of bulky bikers and busty broads
descends upon our group. I step out of the way as girls are snatched up, left
and right. I’m not here to get down with just any biker boy, after all. I have
my sights set much, much higher.

I scan the faces around the roaring blaze, seeking out my
target. But I don’t have to look for long. There, across the fire, stands the
very man I’ve come so far to find.

He presides over the party like a god in his own right. His
staggering body looms over the raging fire, as if lending the blaze its heat.
With thickly corded arms crossed over his bare chest, he stands with feet
firmly planted. Nothing on heaven or earth could move this man an inch—that
much is clear. Dark, inky lines snake along his cut chest and shoulders,
skirting down his arms in dizzying configurations. But the most prominent
tattoo stands out in sharp relief, centered across his tanned pecs. In thick,
scrawling letters, it reads: “Diabolus”.

The Devil.

It’s all I can do to drink in the sight of him, this
towering man I’ve set my sights on. I’ve been researching him for weeks,
tracking down mug shots and newspaper clippings, aquatinting myself with every
aspect of his public life. But no amount of research could have prepared me for
the real thing.

His body looks like it was cut from the smoothest marble,
his every muscle stands out in perfect definition. But you can tell, just from
looking at him, that those muscles weren’t sculpted during long hours at the
gym. His is a body that’s lived hard and tough for decades. For an entire
lifetime. And oh, how it shows.

 He raises a steel flask to his full, firm lips. I
watch, transfixed, and slugs back his liquor, his scruffy jaw sharp as a razor
blade. His high cheekbones, straight nose, and thick black stubble would make
most models weep with envy, but there’s no fussy vanity in this man’s face. He
knows he’s gorgeous, powerful, intimidating, but he doesn’t have to try to be
any of those things. He just is.

A gasp escapes my lips as his eyes flick up to meet mine.
The rest of the wild party fades away at once as our gazes lock. His bottomless
eyes see right through me, stripping me down until I’m utterly naked beneath
his gaze. A slow smile spreads across his smooth lips as he watches me melt
before him. But entranced as I am by his singular brutish beauty, I won’t let
him get to me that easy. From deep down, I gather my restraint, my composure,
my cool. Straightening my spine, I plant a hand on my hip and smile right back
at him.

Two can play at this game, I think to myself.

For the briefest of moments, I could swear that he’s taken
aback. Clearly, this is not a man who’s accustomed to making the first move. My
heart takes a running start and slams against my rib cage as he pockets his
flask and takes a step toward me, circling the roaring bonfire. He approaches
like a wild animal, circling his prey. I turn to face him as he steps up before
me, craning my neck to take in his full, staggering form.

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