Read Online Circle of Death by Celia Loren, Colleen Masters - Free Book Online Page B

springs to mind. I shake my head, dislodging the surprising image. I’m not usually one to get swept up in the heat of the moment. But then again, I’ve never encountered a moment—or a man—this hot before.
    “Why don’t you tell me what it is you are looking for, if not a stiff cock and a quick fuck in the woods?” Devlin growls, planting a hand just over my shoulder. There’s barely a foot of space between us, and it takes every ounce of my concentration to form a reply.
    “For starters...you mentioned a drink?” I say softly, lifting my face to his.
    Devlin throws back his head and lets out a bark of laughter. Slipping his thick, corded arm around my waist, he steers me back toward the bonfire in the clearing. “Finally. Something we can both get into,” he says. “Besides, you’ll need a little lubrication before you’re ready for me.”
    “Ew,” I say, punching him in the arm and biting back my smile.
    As we step back out of the forest into the light of the flames, my jaw nearly hits the leafy ground. All around the fire, the girls I showed up to The Club with are sprawled across the laps of MC dudes. Gone are any inhibitions they brought to the island with them. Kari has her tongue down the throat of some guy with a blonde crew cut, Brie is straddling the grizzled man who seemed to terrify her not moments before, and Ani is topless, grinding up against the most model-esque of the MC members. It’s like all of the girls have fallen under a spell or something.
    “Christ,” I mutter, “That didn’t take long.”
    “This place has an...intense effect on all the people who seek it out,” Devlin says, tightening his grip on my waist. “Except for you, right?”
    “You don’t seem too terribly bewitched yourself,” I reply, glancing up at him in the orange light.
    “That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmurs in my ear, letting his hands wander all over my body. “But it’s not The Club that’s got me reeling, babe. It’s you.”
    “Sweet talk,” I grin, daring to let my fingers glance against his hard chest. “You’re making some real progress, Devlin.”
    He tugs me firmly against his side, as if guarding me from the drunken, horny dudes that rove and stumble around the fire.
    “Here’s the first thing you should know about me,” he says, his voice low and hoarse, “I don’t do sweet talk. Perish the fucking thought.”
    For the first time, I notice the rough wooden bar built into the woods before us. I examine the setup as we make our way over. At first glance, the bar is little more than a long wooden slab propped up by some hewn logs. But behind it, obscured by some foliage, stand shiny industrial fridges and tools—real state of the art equipment. Turning back toward the fire, I see that it’s not haphazard at all, but a carefully constructed blaze arranged in a well-made, carefully disguised fire pit. All of the rustic touches around this place are just for show. I wonder if the owners swap out the aesthetic for every group that rolls in here; bonfires for the bikers, infinity pools for the coddled bankers, that sort of thing.
    “What’ll it be, you two?” asks the bartender, a bottle blonde beauty who happens to be topless. Naturally.
    “Whiskey neat,” I tell her.
    Devlin raises his eyebrows at me. “Whiskey? Christ. No girly drinks for you, huh?”
    “Not on your life,” I smile back.
    “Full of surprises, aren’t you? Make it two whiskeys,” Devlin tells the woman. “And make them doubles.”
    With a placid grin, she produces a bottle of incredibly expensive booze and pours us each a deep glass. My eyes pop open, imagining what those drinks must cost. I’m not in the practice of letting guys buy my rounds for me. Better start practicing now.
    “Aren’t we going to toast?” I ask Devlin, as he makes to shoot back the smoky booze in one big gulp.
    He looks down at me as though I’ve just spoken French. “Toast? Where the fuck do you think you are?” he