Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) (19 page)

I drop down and pull on my underwear followed by my skinny jeans and my tank top. After raking my hands through my hair and pulling it into a high ponytail, he takes my hand in his, tugging me toward the stairs. “Come. I’ll show you where you
won’t
be sleeping.”

Melissa

After my thorough tour around his house, we’re walking back through the kitchen doors. The sun’s setting over the trees with the temperature dropping slightly.

“I need to go back to the clubhouse, check on shit. You wanna come or stay here?”

I shake my head. “I’ll stay here.”

He pulls me in under his arm, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. “I won’t be long. Food’s in the kitchen, Netflix on TV.”

I smile. “Go, I’ll be fine,” I answer, shooing him out the door.

He leaves after another long kiss. As soon as the door closes, the emptiness he leaves is unsettling. I look around the house, wondering what I’m doing… what
we’re
doing. He hasn’t said anything about wanting to make me his old lady, so maybe I’m just the shiny new toy he wants to play with for a little while longer. Either way, it works for me—whatever this is.

I walk up the stairs and into the bathroom, turning on the shower. After quickly washing up and drowning myself in his body wash, I wrap a towel around myself and walk out into the master bedroom. It’s pretty simple in here, not much to it. It lacks a woman’s touch, though. I don’t know if he’s ever brought a woman back here, aside from Jada and Meadow, but the thought is a little distressing.

I look in his walk-in closet and clutch the towel around my chest, reaching for the folded shirts that sit above the hangers. Pulling one down, I slip it over my head before going back into the room and stepping into some lace underwear. On my way back out the door, I pause in front of the cheval mirror that’s sitting in the corner of the room. The white shirt hangs down to my thighs, the club emblem sitting proudly on the front. I roll up the sleeves so they’re not hanging to my elbows before frustration washes through me. I pull the hair tie off my wrist, bunching the shirt to my back so it shows a slit of my hips and flat stomach before tying a knot at the back.
Much better.
I realize I look like I just stepped out of “club whore magazine”, but there’s no one here except me and Hella.

I return down the wooden stairs to the kitchen and pull open the double stainless steel refrigerator doors. “Holy shit,” I whisper. There’s enough food stored in this fridge to feed an army. All of it was vegetables and meat, not a drop of sugar in sight. I pull open the large pantry doors to find it stocked with rice, potatoes, protein shakes, and more protein shakes. I close the door, already needing a cheeseburger to deflate the revelation that this man takes his diet seriously. You’d know it by looking at him; there isn’t a muscle on his delicious body that isn’t ripped under his skin along with the sexy veins that sit under the tattoos on his neck. He’s too much for me to handle on a good day.

“Fuck.” I walk back to the refrigerator and pull out chicken breasts before heading for the pantry. I begin rummaging through all the rice and protein shakes until I find some stir-fry noodles hidden in the back. “Ah!” I exclaim happily, pulling them out. Standing on my tippy-toes, I reach through all the different sauces he has sitting on the top shelf of the pantry until I find teriyaki and pull it down. I begin chopping all the chicken and then start on all the veggies. Something’s missing. I place the knife down and walk into the living room that has high angular ceilings that come to a triangle in the middle with the floor-to-ceiling windows sitting in front of a large L-shaped couch. To the left of the windows sits the large cobblestone fireplace. Another huge TV hung on the wall. When I look at the corner, I see the dock station for an iPod sitting on a little desk. Picking it up, I return to the kitchen, turn on the music, and pull the fridge open again, pulling out a beer. “Much better.” I continue chopping everything up before I fire up the wok and pour a little coconut oil into it, waiting until it’s hot enough before I drop the meat in first.

“Melissa?” Jada calls out as the front door closes.

I halt, hitting pause on Fifth Harmony’s
“Work from home”
. “Is the kid with you?” I yell out, looking down at my tiny boy shorts and top.

“Nah, he’s at home.” She and Millie walk in and stop, a smirk coming onto Jada’s mouth. “Well, look at you, all barefoot, cooking, and looking much like the wife Hella should make you.”

I choke on my beer before placing it back down. “First of all, no. Second of all, what can I do for you?” I start flipping the chicken around in the pan, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“I was bored and the boys are out late tonight.”

“Oh, really?” I ask.

Jada nods. “Hella said he texted you and tried to call, but you didn’t answer, so he sent us over here to babysit.”

Millie opted to stay with Jada when I left. I think they’ve formed a bond, which is good.

“Shit.” I pick up my phone that I’d left on the kitchen counter, seeing all the missed calls. “I’ll call him back. Just a sec.”

I dial his number and he picks up on the second ring. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, Melissa.”

“I thought I was safe here,” I answer, smirking around the rim of my beer.

“You are, but there are one hundred fucking other things that could happen to you.”

I roll my eyes and Jada laughs, placing her bag on the kitchen counter. “I made dinner. Should I put yours in the oven?”

“Yeah, thanks, baby.” He pauses briefly and then whispers, “What’re you wearing?”

“Hella!” I hear Beast yell in the background. “We’re in church! Cut the shit and put the fucking phone down.”

I laugh, my hand coming up to my mouth.

“Shit, gotta go, baby. Boss man is grouchy. Honeymoon phase must be over already.”

“Hella!” Beast repeats.

Hella chuckles. “I’ll see you later.”

I hang up the phone, shaking my head. Pausing, I look up at Jada. “I think I’m in well over my head with him.”

She smiles. “Probably,” she says, then adds, “but I think it’s the same with him.”

I smile. “Probably not, but thanks for the encouragement.” I drain the noodles and point to the bag. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh this? This is what’s going to keep us company tonight.”

She pulls out a bottle of Jäger and a box of Red Bulls. “Jägerbombs?” I ask, horrified.

“Yep.” She places them onto the kitchen counter.

“Well, we better eat enough food then.” I laugh, shaking my head.

After dishing out our stir-fry and putting Hella’s away in the oven, the three of us walk out onto the outside porch and take a seat at the table. “It’s so beautiful out here,” I say, twirling noodles around my fork.

Jada nods. “It is.”

All the fairy lights have been illuminated down by the waterhole and I smile. “I would have killed for a place like this growing up.”

Jada pauses. “For some reason, I thought you both come from a nice, normal home.”

Millie and I both pause. I smile. “Nah, the opposite. Our dad was in a car accident with Millie, but we never found him at the scene. The police said that it was more than likely that he tried to walk off, confused, and maybe an animal found him or something.” I place my bowl onto the table and pick up my drink. My appetite was gone; the need for alcohol had replaced my hunger. “My mother turned to stripping and escorting to pay our bills. We moved away from Westbeach to Detroit, and Millie started practicing her Catholic life.”

“Shit,” Jada whispers. “That’s pretty hardcore.”

I shrug. “Not really. It’s life. Mom got diagnosed with cancer and I dropped out of school to take care of her. We needed all the money she had saved for putting me through college for medical bills. I used the last bit of money we had left over to open my bakery. She’s doing better now. Newly married to some hotshot lawyer. She has a good life, a life she deserves, and the cancer has stayed away for now, which is a relief. But cancer is cancer, you know, and when it infects someone you love physically, it infects your loved ones mentally, constantly thinking when will it come back. Will she tell me if it does? Anyway.” I exhale. “That’s that.”

Jada places her empty bowl on the table. “I’m sorry,” she says.

I shrug. “No need. We are all dealt something different in life, all trying to make it out alive, and maybe even get to live it happily.”

She smiled as the front door shuts inside. I tense. “Melissa?” It’s Hella. I relax. I should have put some pants on earlier, but what I’m wearing can almost pass as very short shorts.

“Out here,” I holler, taking another large gulp of my drink.

He walks through the binding doors, his wide shoulders and mere presence occupying the space. Hella was
that
guy, the kind of guy that only had to walk into a room and everyone paused what they were doing because he owned it. He inhales and exhales power and dominance and every single person who lays eyes on him knows he’s a fucking bad ass.

He pauses, finding my eyes, and nudges his head lightly. He walks toward me, bends down, and presses his lips to my head. I tilt my head back, catching his lips with mine, and he pauses slightly, his hand coming to my neck and keeping my head locked there. His tongue slips into my mouth briefly.

Jada clears her throat. His smile presses against my lips, releasing my neck. His smile drops and his body stills. He runs his eyes down the front of me. My left leg is tucked under my right leg, but he has full display of the shirt rising above my hips and my little underwear. A deep growl escapes him. I smile and point back to the kitchen, changing the subject. “Dinner is in the oven.”

He clears his throat before turning his back and walking towards the kitchen. I look to Jada, who’s bright red, and Millie, who’s looking everywhere but at me. “What?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

Jada shakes her head, her glass rising to her lips. “That was sort of hot.”

“I’m going to need to go shopping,” I say, picking up my phone. “There’s no fucking wine or chocolate in this damn house.” They both burst out laughing and I smile.

Melissa

My first night in Hella’s house was eventful. We didn’t get much sleep last night because he wanted to show me all the different ways he could make me come. I can’t feel my legs this morning and I feel swollen down in my lady parts. Sore but oh-so-sweet.

“Hey.” He walks toward me, freshly showered, his hair falling all over his forehead and wearing nothing but loose jeans unbuttoned at the top. My eyes follow down his torso, remembering what each muscle feels like under my tongue. I had fun with his body last night as much as he had with mine.

“Hey, what’re you doing today?” I ask, flinging the blanket off of me.

His hand wraps around my chin as he tilts my head up to face him. His lips skim over mine before he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. “I gotta go sort through all this shit for the New Orleans chapter coming in.” He drops to the bed and pulls on his combat boots.

I crawl over to him. “And I can’t come?”

“Nah, you’re coming. The girls are waiting for you to help them around the kitchen, so get ready.”

I look at the alarm clock that sits on his bedside table. “But it’s only seven a.m.!”

“I know.” He smirks. “I woke up early to work out. Get up. We’ll have breakfast, then leave.” He pushes off the bed and goes, leaving the door wide open. I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but it’s like we’re suddenly playing house. The thought leaves a flutter of butterflies in my belly, but I’m not sure I want them there.
He’s going to hurt you
. I squash my thoughts down, but they’re right. I need to approach him and see exactly what it is we’re doing… right after I call Brenda to see how the bakery is going. I only have her, Carrie, the waitress, and Peter, my head baker.

After calling them and hearing that everything is smooth sailing, though we might need to hire a new waitress because of an indoor ice skating rink opened across the road and has been drawing in new customers, I step into the shower and take a quick one. I shuffle into my little white short shorts and off-the-shoulder long-sleeve shirt. I quickly braid my hair into a side fishtail braid, wipe on some BB cream with a light dash of mascara, then leave the room. I need to get a trim soon because the length of my hair is ridiculous. I think Hella likes it though, using my hair as his own personal fucking handlebars.

“You cook?” I ask, pulling out a barstool and taking a seat.

He dishes out the pancakes, placing them in front of me. I chuckle lightly at him wearing his big bad colors and cooking me pancakes with strawberries, bananas, and maple syrup.

“Someone has to build this masterpiece,” he replies smugly, looking down at his body.

I roll my eyes, breaking a piece off of my pancake and popping it in my mouth, only for it to come straight back out. “What the fucking fuck is this bullshit?”

His laughter echoed through the kitchen. “Pancakes—the protein-kind, made with no flour. Just bananas, egg, protein powder, and cinnamon.”

My face scrunches in disgust, which earns me another laugh. “That is just—no, that’s
appalling
.”

“Baby, if you want to keep up with me, you’re going to need all the stamina you can get.”

I pick up the disgusting excuse of a pancake and throw it at his face. “My stamina is just fine and fuck you and your stupid-ass pancakes. I’ll eat at the clubhouse. Maybe Garret didn’t eat all that cake.”

He chuckles again, stuffing a pancake in his mouth. Actually, they need a new name; they bring shame to the pancake community and should be eliminated from our existence. Jesus, that shit was bad.

“Come on, grumpy,” Hella mutters with a smirk.

I take his hand and follow him out. He stops just before we hit the door and turns around to scan me.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just make sure you leave with Meadow. You, wearing that? You’ll start a war.”

Hella

We ride to the clubhouse with Melissa on my bike and
fuck me, it feels good
. I need to talk to her about a few things, but it can wait until tomorrow. There’s no way I can leap into something right now, but not because I don’t want her in danger. I’m a selfish man; if I want her, fuck anything and anyone else, I’ll fucking take her regardless of the repercussions. It’s because of a few other reasons—one of which, I’m sure she’s going to lose her shit over when she finds out.

Switching off my bike, I help her off and lead her towards the clubhouse. “Come on, I’ll take you to the girls.”

She follows closely. The brothers here are not a problem. Melissa doesn’t need to wear a property patch for them to know she’s mine, but when the other brothers get here, there will be too many, and any woman not wearing a property patch at a clubhouse is fair game.

After leading her into the kitchen, I leave her there and make my way to Beast, who stands by the pool tables talking with Frost.

“Sup. So, what’s the plan?” I ask, picking up a cue stick.

“The plan is to lay low. Did you call Zane’s I.T. man? Meadow is wanting to push this wedding up to three weeks from today, and—“

“Whoa!” I hold my hand up, attempting to hide my chuckle. “Three motherfucking weeks from today?”

“That’s what I said.” Beast nods his head, unnerved.

“That’s fucking crazy. How the fuck is she supposed to sort that shit out in three weeks?”

“Well, between Phoebe, Melissa, and Jada? I’m sure they’ll have it handled.”

I shake my head, leaning onto the pool table and sinking one of the balls. “That’s fucking insane, brother. Where’s she having it?”

“She wants it here. Nothing fancy, just a few close friends and all that bullshit.” A loud squeal of excitement sounds off from behind the bar where the kitchen is.

I exhale, recognizing that squeal from a mile away. “You’ve fucked me, you know that? Melissa is going to be more about planning the fucking wedding and less about twerking on my dick.” They both laugh, shaking their heads. “I’ll get on that this week.”

Beast nods. “Sounds good.”

I look around the area and see that the Vixens have gone. “Where are the little Vixens?” I ask.

“Gone.” Ripper shakes his head. “Crazy bitches.”

“Gone?” My eyes widen. “Gone where?”

Beast shrugs. “Daddy dearest wanted words with her and her crew, so he took them off my hands.”

“That’s a little fucked up,” I answer absently.

Beast nods before changing the subject. “What’s Melissa’s sister’s story?”

I place the cue stick down. “Fuck knows. She was a nun, though. Straight as fucking shit.”

“Hot as fuck though,” Ripper adds.

I laugh. “Good luck, brother. She wouldn’t touch a man in cut, that much I know.”

“How do you know that?” Ripper retorts.

“Because Melissa told me, there’s no way she would ever go near any of us. Plus she’s a fucking virgin, Ripper. Fuck that.”

He shrugs. “Blood turns me on.”

“Mmm.” I run my tongue over lip. “Agreed, but she’s a fucking
virgin
, Ripper,” I repeat, accentuating virgin, hoping that would cut through his brain. No such luck, his eyes are glued to the kitchen door.

Beast shakes his head, his hand resting on Ripper’s shoulder. “Melissa will fucking eat your ass for breakfast.”

That was enough to snap Ripper back in line. I laugh, throwing my head back. “I don’t think my girl is real fond of protein.”

Melissa

“Three weeks,” I repeat, looking at Meadow.

She bobs her head, throwing a carrot stick into her mouth. “Three weeks.”

“And you want to have it here?” I clarify.

“Yes,” she looks at me. “This is my home, has been since I first set foot here.”

“I know!” I throw my hands up. “I wasn’t insinuating anything. Okay, so we have three weeks,” I whisper, looking at Jada.

Millie lands on her feet from the kitchen table. “Lissa, we could get mom to help?”

Meadow’s gaze whips to mine. “I remember you saying she could plan a wedding in a day.”

I laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, she could, but she’d give everyone here nightmares. Seriously, my mom doesn’t play. Ever since she kicked cancer’s ass, the woman lives by one thing: do what the fuck you want and fuck anyone that gets uncomfortable. It’s a problem.”

Millie giggles. “She’s not that bad.”

“No. You shut your mouth when you’re talking to me. She’s bad.”

They all burst out laughing as I continue to prepare the ground beef for the burgers. Meadow walks up to me, placing each hand on my shoulders. “Will you please call her?”

My shoulders slack in defeat. “Fine! But she’s your problem when she gets here and I don’t wanna hear any bitching about her.”

“Yay!” Meadow claps her hands. I smile up at her before looking back at Millie who’s on her phone, her fingers tapping frantically.

“Hey,” I nudge my head towards her. “Who’re you texting?”

She pushes her phone back into her pocket before looking up. “I think I’m in trouble.”