Ruined (Devil’s Handmaidens MC Alaska Chapter #3)

Chapter 2

TWO

FRENCHIE

I roll over and stretch, and something heavy slides across my neck. I reach for it and realize it’s a necklace. The pendant is shaped like a dog tag, crafted in beautiful rose gold, with a diamond inside a heart. I flip it over and see the inscription on the other side.

To my baby doll, don’t forget I’m always here for you.

Love always,

Dylan

My heart clenches, and I choke. I want to cry but can’t. Tears haven’t flowed in a long time, and I don’t know if they ever will again.

I slide out of bed and take a shower before heading to the shop to watch Ryder before my afternoon classes. With Riddler and Jinx both pregnant, they don’t work the long hours they used to. Jinx’s husband, Reaper, doesn’t like her painting too much.

I take a mix of online and on-campus classes. On the days I’m not at school, I watch Skyler and Ryder. Skyler is in school today, and Ryder only goes half days, so the bus should be dropping him off in a couple of hours. That gives me time to work on my psych paper. I’m working toward a master’s degree in psychology. I earned my bachelor’s while we were in Kentucky. I’ve been working with the University of Alaska system to complete my degree here at the Fairbanks location, which is normally offered at the Anchorage campus.

I decided to focus on psychology so I could help others who have been traumatized like I was. I know firsthand what they are going through, and I know it’s something that will be with them forever. They will never get over it, but they will have to learn to live with it. It’s something I’m still working on myself.

I think that’s what I was doing last night with Dylan. Finally moving on. I’m not as ruined as my mother told me I was. But it’s going to take some time. I know that, and we will have to go slow. I’m glad Dylan didn’t push for more last night, but I also know he’s a man and will be expecting something in return soon. At least, that’s what I think. Maybe it’s time I sit down and talk to him about us.

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” Riddler’s voice pulls me from my head.

I look up to see I’ve made it across the compound and to the shop without even remembering to put on my coat, hat, or gloves. This is my first winter in Alaska. Even though I grew up in Canada, I’ve never experienced this level of cold. The kind that sneaks up on you, and by the time you realize how cold it is, it’s too late.

Riddler points at the necklace I’ve been absentmindedly fingering. “What’s that?” she asks.

“Dylan gave it to me.”

“You finally gave him a break?” She chuckles, and I smile softly.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Good. It’s about time, little sister.” She moves around her desk and pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around her because she is my family now—she and all the Handmaidens are.

When we pull apart, I look over to see that she’s working at her desk today.

“No appointments?”

“Nope. I can watch Ryder if you want to head to the library for some studying.”

“Thank you.”

I head out to my car, unplug it, and start it up. While it warms, I run inside to grab my books and bag. By the time I get back outside, my car is all warmed up. I head into Fairbanks and across town to the campus library, where I settle in and work on my paper.

I ’ve been studying for the last couple of hours when my cell phone pings in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Dylan.

Dylan

Dinner at the Turtle Club tonight and then dessert at my house?

I think about it for a moment. Just as I’m about to respond, another text comes through.

Dylan

I’m not meaning sex. I want you to meet my boys finally and see my house.

Me

Okay

I continue working on my paper until it’s almost time to meet Dylan, then head out to the restaurant in Fox. I like the Turtle Club, though I’ve only been there once before. Vixen and I went when we first moved here. I pull in next to his truck and wait in my car. I know he likes to open my door for me and help me out. Even though I’ve never dated him before, he’s shown me how he wants to treat me. He has proven time and again that he wants to be there for me.

Dylan opens my door, and I reach out for his hand as he helps me out of the car. His arm wraps around me, and he leads me toward the entrance.

I’m hit with a wave of heat and the rich aroma of red meat and good food as we step through the door. We walk past the bar to the hostess station, and he gives his name for our reservation. I watch as the hostess checks him out. I’m standing right next to him, and she still eyes him. I know he’s sexy, but jeez, give it a rest, bitch.

I’m about to say something when Dylan leans down and kisses my forehead.

“Missed you today, baby doll. Can’t wait to get you home and in bed. We can cuddle and watch a movie,” he says, loud enough for the hostess to hear, but not so loud that others can.

I can’t help the sigh that comes from me. I honestly feel at peace at this moment. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to move our relationship to the next step, but he’s here right now and wants to be with me. I’m also here and want it.

We are directed to a small table off to the side, and Dylan pulls out my chair for me. Before I sit, he helps me slip off my puffy down parka. I’m wearing skinny jeans and a slouchy cream-colored turtleneck sweater. After he pushes me in, I watch as he removes off his outer Carhartt jacket, revealing a long-sleeved Henley with a flannel layered over the top. His jeans sit low on his hips, and I remember how he felt last night.

“Baby doll, get those thoughts out of your head before I pull you onto my lap and show everyone here who you belong to.” His voice is deep and gruff.

My eyes snap to his sky-blue ones, now darkened and stormy. My breath quickens, and I fidget in my chair as I pull the side of my bottom lip between my teeth. He stands, and I watch as he moves toward me. Part of me wants him to clear the table with a sweep of his arm and take me, but the other part of me—the shy, scared little girl—wants to tell him to sit back down.

He comes to a stop, standing over me. I look up at him, my heart pounding. He leans down and kisses me deeply. His tongue dominates my mouth. He has one hand under my chin and the other gripping the braid at the back of my head. He tugs on the plait, pulling my lips from his.

“When we get home, I’m going to show you what happens when you provoke me,” he growls, and I shift in my seat.

Dinner is amazing, not just because of the food, but because of the conversation. I tell Dylan about my three older brothers. How I studied ballet and dance, but it never went anywhere thanks to my two left feet. He laughs and insists it couldn’t have been that bad. I can’t help but belly laugh as I tell him about one of my first recitals, where I knocked the other dancers over.

He tells me about his parents and growing up in the Mat-Su Valley and Anchorage. He lived in Anchorage until he was a teenager, then moved to Palmer, where they lived near a farm. Dylan invites me to go snow machining with him if the weather warms up. I’ve never gone snowmobiling before, and he laughs when I call it that.

We discover we have a lot in common when it comes to our likes and dislikes of books, movies, and music. But our upbringings were very different. I like that he has fun stories to share, and how much he loves his parents. He assures me they’ll like me, but I doubt it.

I follow him to his house, a huge log home with a rock chimney and a wraparound deck. It reminds me of the house in the television show Yellowstone . When I park, he’s already at my door, waiting to help me out of the car.

“I’ll warn you they might have been partially trained to be police dogs, but they are jumpers and lovers. They failed out of the program, and I took them in.”

“I want to see them. You’ve talked them up so much. I want to meet these babies.” I smile and realize this is the most I’ve laughed and had fun in a very long time.

He leads me up the stairs to the porch, and we walk around to the side of the house, entering through the laundry-utility room. He helps me out of my coat, and I take off my boots. When he opens the door, two blurs rush him—one black, the other a tricolor. They jump up, tails wagging, yipping and barking in excitement to see him. Dylan shouts “Off!” and “Down!” repeatedly.

I stand back and watch for a moment, but then the dogs turn their attention to me. The tricolor one rushes me, and I instinctively hold up my hands, afraid he might attack. But instead, he sniffs me, then licks my chin. Standing on his hind legs, he’s tall enough to almost meet my eye.

“Down, Brutus,” Dylan orders the dog, and he immediately drops down. The all-black one moves toward me and leans against my leg. “That one is Otis. He’s the lover, not the wild child that Brutus is.”

“Hello, sweet boy.” I pet his head, and Brutus tries to push between us, wanting some loving too.

“Come on, baby doll.” Dylan holds out his hand, and I take it.

He leads me through the kitchen and into the large great room, where the fireplace is the main focal point. A large screen television is attached above the mantel, and a big leather sofa faces it.

“Want to get into something comfortable?” Dylan guides me to what appears to be the primary bedroom.

This room has a large log four-poster bed taking center stage. I’m so focused on it that I don’t notice anything else until Dylan steps into my view.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t there yet,” he says. “Here.” He hands me one of his shirts and points toward the bathroom.

I move on sluggish legs, the bed still on my mind.

Dylan

I watch her until she closes the door, then step into my closet. I strip off the flannel and my belt to get comfortable. I know she needs more time, and I’m not going to rush her. I’m just glad she’s here with my boys and not running for cover.

I head to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water for her and a beer for myself. I’m hoping to talk her into staying the night instead of returning to the compound.

As I glance around my home, I wonder if she’ll like it. I bought this place for us. I changed the trajectory of my career to be closer to her, to build a life with her. She is still so skittish, but I’m glad she’s giving me a chance.

Tonight, at dinner, I enjoyed getting to know her. She talked about the time before and after her abduction, avoiding the ordeal itself. I’ve read the official reports, and I know just how brutal it was. When I became interested in her, Riddler and Jinx tried to scare me off. I get it—they’re protective of her. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.

I was there when Jinx confessed that she almost killed Pierre because of how destroyed Minuet was when they rescued her. That my girl would bear the emotional and physical scars forever.

I’ve seen the pictures that were turned over to the police in Kentucky. They still don’t know how she ended up there. Her captors kept switching vehicles, and no one ever caught a glimpse of her. Now that we know she was kept in a box, it all makes sense—how they managed to move her around undetected. I’ve noticed that she doesn’t like small spaces or feeling confined, and I completely understand why.

“I have to watch the kids tomorrow during the press conference.” Her soft voice breaks me from my dark thoughts.

I turn and nearly swallow my tongue. She’s bare-legged and standing there in just my T-shirt. Her blond hair is down around her shoulders, and she’s sexy as fuck. My boys are on each side of her, protecting her, and that’s what I wanted from them. I want her to trust them and use them for support. I want her to know she is as safe here as she is at the clubhouse and compound.

My legs move without even thinking about it, and I’m in front of her. I guide her over to the sofa and sit her down, covering her bare legs with a blanket once I have her settled. Then I start a fire. If I sat with her right this minute, she would be straddling my lap, and I’d be pushing her to do more.

I plan on kissing her all night long though, so I need a moment to gather myself and my strength.

W hen I finally fall asleep, she’s pressed against my body, and I have my arm around her. I got both of us off again by dry humping. I can’t wait until she lets me touch her. I fall asleep, feeling at peace. After she passed out from her orgasm, I cleaned myself up and changed into a pair of basketball shorts.

“Please.” I hear her whimper.

I come awake and flip on the bedside lamp. Minuet is writhing on the bed. Her legs moving around under the blanket. She has one hand beneath the covers, and I flip them back to discover her little hand working her clit in her sleep. I’m fucking lost to the view in front of me as a wet spot forms on her white silky thong.

“Wake up, baby doll,” I say softly, not wanting to startle her, but I need her awake for what I’m going to do.

Her eyes flip open, and I watch as a blush slides down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of the shirt.

“You need a release?” My words are gruff as I’m hanging on by a thread. I can smell her desire, and I need a taste. My mouth waters for it. She nods, but I need the words. “Say it,” I order her, and her blush deepens.

“Please get me off again.”

“Can I—” I swallow, clearing the extra saliva from my mouth. “Can I touch you?” I need to touch her. I need so much more.

“Please,” she begs as she opens her legs.

I slide down the bed and pull her panties to the side. Her clean-shaven pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I glide a finger through her damp folds, collecting her essence, and then suck off my digit. She shivers.

“More, please,” she whines, and I snap.

I wrench the thong from her body and fall on her. I try to be gentle as I lap at her. She moans and writhes around, so I give her more of myself, opening her up with my fingers as I kiss her pussy like I do her mouth. My tongue slides into her core and fucks her. My shoulders hold her open, but I want more.

I push her legs up, opening her further, and dive deep. She’s thrashing around, and I’m pressing my aching cock into the bed. I move from her entrance to her clit. As I suck it deep, I push a finger into her tight hole.

“Yes. Yes, Dylan,” she cries out my name, and I feel ten feet tall.

She drives her hands into my hair and holds me to her core. I start humping the bed as I move my finger in and out of her. She screams and comes, her body shuddering. I lap her up as I slip a second finger inside her, opening her up more, preparing her, so that my cock won’t hurt her when I finally take her.

I build her up again, over and over. When she comes for a third time, I have three fingers pumping in and out of her, and I come in my shorts.

I climb up her body. “I’m going to be doing that every fucking day of my life, baby doll,” I say before I kiss her.

She clutches at me, her nails digging into my back, and I press my still hard cock into her. She starts moving against me, and I slide a hand between us to pull my shorts down so I can feel her raging heat against my cock. She cries out and throws her head back.

“I want to take you, Minuet, but I’ll wait. Just let me feel you.”

“Yes, please, Dylan. I want to feel you too.”

I press my cock to her entrance and leave it there, not pushing in deeper than just the head. Her pussy squeezes me, making my eyes cross. I come inside her just like that, and she cries out as her back bows. I lift her shirt up and take her nipple deep into my mouth as we both come down from our orgasm.

“Come on,” I tell her as I slide away from her. I want to slam inside her and really claim her, but I know she’s not ready.

I lift her up into my arms and carry her to the adjoining bathroom, where I strip us naked before carrying her into the shower. I start it up and adjust the temperature. Warm water cascades down our bodies, and she’s looking up at me. I lean down and kiss her deep. I can’t get enough of her.