“Enough,” Crush said, turning to Diaz. “Go sit down.”
Diaz nodded and found his way back to Jessie. He had a few cuts on his face and his knuckles were in pretty bad shape, but other than that he seemed okay. He was breathing pretty heavy when he sat, so Jessie went and got him a bottle of water. He unscrewed the top and guzzled the entire thing down in a few swallows.
“Thanks.”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He tossed the bottle in the nearby trash can and kept his head turned toward the other guys still standing.
Spence had knocked his guy to his knees with a well-delivered punch and Crush had ended his fight, too, so Spence came and sat with them.
“That guy do something to piss you off, Diaz?”
“No.”
“It sure looked like you wanted to beat him to death.”
Diaz shot Spence a venomous glare. “I did what I was asked to do, what we were all asked to do. Is that a problem?”
Spence held up both his hands. “Not at all.” But Spence looked at her with a question in his eyes.
A question Jessie had no answers for. Diaz was obviously upset by what had happened out there. And this wasn’t the time or place to talk to him about it. It was clear he wanted distance.
The melee was over. The initiates who hadn’t stood up to the fight were escorted out. Spence and Diaz stayed.
After several minutes to break and regain order, Crush came back to the center.
“Now it’s the ladies’ turn,” Crush said with a wicked grin. “Initiates, come on up.”
Jessie leaped off the hay and moved to the front, along with six other women.
“Our women have to be just as tough as our men, to be able to defend the Skulls. Can you handle it?”
She nodded, hands on her hips.
Crush motioned to the crowd and six women wearing Skulls shirts came forward. All the tough-looking ones, too. Not surprisingly, fluffy Stephanie wasn’t one of them. Probably wouldn’t want to mess up her makeup. How did a little thing like Stephanie ever pass initiation?
Maybe she got in because she was Crush’s cousin, and she’d never had to fight. Jessie couldn’t imagine Stephanie doing this. She might break a nail. Jessie grinned.
“Confident, are you?” Crush asked.
“You could say that.” Jessie had been challenged her entire life. This was nothing to the kind of people she’d had to fight off when she was just a kid. He couldn’t scare her.
“Same rules as before,” Crush said.
One of the taller, broader women lined up in front of Jessie. Mean-looking thing, too, with a determined expression on her hard, lined face. She had about ten years on Jessie, and a lot more muscle and weight.
But Jessie had fought off men, and she’d been trained well by the Wild Riders. She could take this woman.
“Ready? Go,” Crush said.
Jessie waited for the attack. The woman lunged and Jessie side-stepped, using her feet to keep moving. She wanted to see what this woman had, wanted to go on the defensive first. The woman balled her hand into a fist and took a swing. She might have some strength but she was wild and inaccurate, no doubt used to brawling in groups. Jessie was used to one-on-one defense, so she ducked the punch, grabbed the woman’s wrist, and pivoted, shoving an elbow into her midsection. Momentarily out of breath, the woman bent over, giving Jessie the advantage she needed. She used her fist and clipped her on the chin. Her head went back and Jessie kicked her in the stomach.
The Skulls woman might be built hard like an oak tree, but she fell hard, too, hitting the ground and sending up a cloud of dust around her.
Almost too easy.
“I guess there was a reason for your confidence,” Crush said, laughing and shaking his head. “Go sit down.”
She grinned and couldn’t help sauntering back to the hay bale, her gaze focused on Diaz and Spence.
“You f**king rocked that, Jessie,” Spence said, smacking her on the back as she sat.
“Thanks.”
She waited. Turned to Diaz.
“You did good,” Diaz said with a nod.
The rest of the women didn’t take long either. About half of the initiates won their fights. The others were escorted off the premises after their butts had been soundly kicked by the Skulls women.
The fighting was over.
“Those who remain, you did a fine job,” Crush said. “We need good fighters in our group. You passed the first test. You have guts. Grab something to drink, and we’ll get on to the second part in a few minutes.”
Spence grabbed several beers, tossing one to Diaz and the other to Jessie. She popped open the can and took several long, courage-inducing swallows.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Diaz asked.
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“You don’t sound convincing.”
“I’ve never done it before. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
He frowned. “I still don’t like it.”
“It’s not for you to like or not like. We’re here for a reason.” She didn’t want to think beyond right now, this moment. What would happen later would happen. She was just going to let it unfold.
Someone turned on music, tossed more kindling on the bonfire. Flames licked higher in the air, turning their circle into a veritable sauna.
Crush returned to the center, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He unscrewed the top, took a long pull, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Two of the women came up next to him, one a petite brunette with her hair in braided pigtails, the other a tall blonde, her hair loose and flowing down to her waist. The brunette grasped the bottle from his hand, took a drink, and handed it to the blonde, who took a drink. Crush wrapped his arms around both the women.
“The Devil’s Skulls are a tight group,” he said. “We share everything. We live together, fight together, love together. There are no secrets. If you can’t bare it all in this gang, then you don’t belong here. We expect our initiates to prove it. Pick a partner, or two, or three, and show you want to be with us.”
He turned to the brunette and kissed her. Jessie’s breath caught at the savagery of the kiss, the way his tongue tangled with hers. Then he pulled away from the brunette and turned to the blonde, taking her mouth with equal passion.
Jessie’s pulse begin to race as she watched the women move their hands over Crush’s body. He seemed oblivious to the gazes of everyone on him as the women cupped his crotch, palming his now rigid c**k through his leathers.
Mesmerized, Jessie couldn’t move. But others did. All around the circle couples began to touch each other. And those who hadn’t yet coupled up began to find someone. Women walked up to men—did they even know them? Did it matter? Men approached women, who offered up knowing smiles and welcomed them with open arms. Some weren’t even initiates, but already established members of the group, apparently deciding to partake of tonight’s party atmosphere.
Wow. A hedonistic pleasure circle. And she had a front row seat, a voyeur’s paradise. Between the bonfire and her body heating up from the activity around her, she was ready to strip off her leathers and lie na**d on the bales of hay, touching her pu**y and getting herself off as she watched the action.
Until a set of strong arms wrapped around her, sliding her off the hay bales and jerking her to her feet.
“We’re not here to watch, darlin’. We’re participants in this.”
A lightning jolt of desire shot low, pooling heat between her legs as Diaz drew her jacket off and bent down to kiss the nape of her neck. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold. All doubts about what would be happening tonight fled. Arousal had taken its place. No one was focused only on her—at least not at the moment—there was way too much activity going on around them, too much to look at to concentrate on only one person. Gazes wandered around the area, just as hers did.
Even Spence had found Stephanie, pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss. She’d never seen Spence . . . intimate before. Watching him kiss the woman—touch her—it was shocking, yet exciting.
There were going to be a lot of things tonight she’d never seen before.
Diaz turned her around to face him, his hands on her shoulders, then across her back, rubbing her skin through the thin shirt she wore. “This is just about the two of us. Don’t pay attention to anyone else, to anything else going on around us. I’ll keep you safe and as hidden as I can.”
He had no idea, did he? She palmed his chest, loving the rock solid feel of him against her hands. “I want to watch.”
One dark brow arched, then his lips curled. “You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
He spun her around and pulled her back against his chest, smoothing his hands along the side of her ribs. He leaned in to whisper against her ear, “I like to watch, too.”
His warm breath caressed her neck at the same time his hands swept under her breasts, causing her ni**les to harden and press against her shirt. Could others see? Who was watching her? She searched the crowd, her gaze capturing Spence’s, who stood behind Stephanie in a similar position to theirs. Spence had lifted Stephanie’s shirt, detached her bra, and grasped a handful of Stephanie’s br**sts in his hands.
But Spence was watching Jessie, and not at all in a brotherly way.
Then again, none of the Wild Riders were her brothers—never had been. They kept telling themselves she was like a sister to them, but she’d always figured it was bullshit. It was to her. They were men. She was a woman. That had never become more evident than on this mission.
Between what she saw and what she felt, she was overwhelmed—in a good way. She’d worried about this moment? She shouldn’t have. It was hot as hell. Her gaze flitted to Crush. The two women were on their knees now, unzipping his pants and reaching inside to pull out his cock. While she watched, Diaz was behind her, his hard c**k pressed against her. He rocked, insistently, making sure she understood clearly who she was here with.
As if there was any doubt. She reached behind her and placed her palm over his erection. He hissed.
“Do you know how much I want to f**k you?”
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, pushing back against his hard-on. Her panties were damp, clinging to her pussy. She could already imagine him pounding into her as they watched other couples go at it. Some of them were already undressed, others were halfway there. Moans and whimpers, a few unintelligible murmurs could be heard above the crackles and pops of the bonfire.
This was so much more than the movies she used to watch. It was up close, personal sex really happening in front of her. It wasn’t staged, wasn’t fake, it was actual people having actual sex. No prettified stars in weird positions showcasing body parts for the best camera angle. It was tall people, short people, some older, some younger, a few couples were gorgeous, and a few were ugly. Some had killer bodies, some didn’t.
It didn’t matter. Every bit of it was exciting. She was watching other people have sex, and it made her pu**y wet. A woman, completely na**d, fell onto a bale of hay right in front of her. The guy with her fumbled with a condom, then plunged his sizeable c**k between her pu**y lips. The woman screamed, lifted her h*ps while the man pumped into her and buried his head between her breasts.
Jessie shuddered, tempted to reach out and touch them, as if she couldn’t quite believe this was real. There was too much to see. She didn’t know where to look next but couldn’t wait to turn her head, afraid she’d miss something exciting.
She heard Diaz’s dark laugh behind her. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples, making her knees weak.
“I think you’re ignoring me in favor of watching.”
She laid her head against his chest, panting with excitement. “I could never ignore you. You have a great dick. Now f**k with me with it.”
“I love a woman who knows what she wants.” He jerked the button of her pants open, pulled her zipper down, slid his hand inside to cup her sex. She sucked in a breath as he caressed her, wished her pants were off so he could have free movement to play with her cl*tand pussy. Why wasn’t he undressing her? Other people were na**d, some women spread-eagled and enjoying oral sex. Her cl*tquivered as she watched, her pu**y spilling more moisture onto Diaz’s questing fingers.
“Fuck me,” she demanded.
He maneuvered his fingers along her vulva, then drove two into her. She stilled, shuddered, gripping his forearm while he finger f**ked her with hard, short strokes.
“Like that?” he asked.
“Yes.” She clenched her jaw, could barely force the word out. Her gaze drifted to Crush, his pants around his ankles as the two women took turns devouring his c**k with their mouths, their lips and tongues lapping at each side of his swollen shaft, then taking his angry purple cockhead between their lips. They cupped his balls, then one licked and sucked them into her mouth while the other swallowed his cock. He held on to the blonde’s hair as she took his shaft deep into her mouth. Then he looked over at Jessie and smiled at her, nodded, while Diaz continued to pump his fingers furiously inside her.
But she needed more.
“Diaz, please.” She lifted against his hand, holding on to his wrist to shove it farther inside her pants. But he grabbed her wrist, lifted his hands out of her pants.
She could have cried. Until he began pulling at her jeans, drawing them over her butt. She felt cool air on her pussy.
“Bend forward.”
He pushed her over so she palmed a stack of hay, half bent, her jeans down around her knees. She heard his belt buckle, his zipper, the tearing of a foil packet.