him. His grip is tight enough to make me wonder, causing a rush of excitement to heat my skin.
“What did you think you were going to do, Wildcat?” he rasps in my ear. “There are at least a dozen men here. Were you going to fend them all off? Even if you could, then what?”
Several men’s hands palm the woman’s breasts. Another one reaches down and slides his hand between her legs. Two of the men to either side of her are holding her wrists, arms out at her sides. My breathing kicks into high gear.
The woman murmurs something that sounds like a plea. Rat leans forward and grabs her throat. His fingers squeeze until she gasps. Someone bends down and silences her with a kiss. I can hardly breathe.
“Where do you think interference will get you? Hmm?” Spider croons. “You’d end up in her place, taking what’s meant for her.”
Okay, so I realize how insanely ridiculous it is that I even considered there was anything I could do. In a room full of armed men, all many times stronger than me who are trained to fight and kill? Stepping in would have been by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
It doesn’t go beneath my notice that Spider’s words offer no reassurance that he’d stop them if I put myself in the line of fire.
“I don’t want to see this,” I whisper. It’s a stupid thing to say, a pointless resistance when I’m with a man who delights in my discomfort and fear, but if I can’t stop it, I have to do something, even if it’s only making clear my resistance.
Spider’s fingers tighten a fraction. My breathing hitches, my pulse hammering so hard he must feel it pounding against his fingers.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls. “It’ll do you good to see how this world works.”
It strikes me that he’s referring to the MC world. His world.
I turn my head away, but Spider’s hand slips around my jaw, keeping my eyes on the scene.
“You’re not going to join in?” Striker asks.
“I want you to watch,” Spider tells me, not seeming to have even heard his friend.
“You want his cock?” the man bent over the woman asks.
“Yes,” the woman rasps.
“He’ll make it good for you. We all will.” He looks up, and I recognize the thick, wavy shoulder-length blond hair and stunning green eyes. I’d seen him with Dragon a few times, but I hadn’t noticed that his cut has a patch that says V. President—Vice President?
I guess that makes him Dragon’s second in command.
At his words, some of the men make approving sounds and others chuckle.
“You’re in for the time of your life, girl,” Spider says.
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to the woman on the billiard table. She isn’t struggling, but how can she possibly want what the men intend to do to her?
Rat tugs on her nipples, tweaking them, and she squirms.
Spider’s hand leaves my throat, and the absence of his touch snaps me back to him. My skin feels cold, bereft without his touch.
Before I have a chance to see more of what’s happening to the girl, without a word, Spider tugs on the leash, pulling me over to the bar.
“Let’s get you a good seat,” he says. The anticipation in his voice is like a tether linking me to him, one far more effective than any leash.
Behind the bar, one of the girls washes up glasses. I’ve seen her there a few times. The side of her head is shaved down to almost nothing, the other half long and thick and jet black. I think they call her Karma.
Behind me, I can hear the crowd getting rowdier, a harsh slap, and the woman on the pool table gasping. When I tense, Spider’s hand clamps on my shoulder, trapping me beside him.
“Relax. Don’t be such a pearl-clutcher.”
Uh. The man is a demon.
I focus on Karma, on her soaping up a glass, as if the mundane task grounds me. When she sees me, her eyes take in the spider’s web collar around my neck. Then her eyes drop, zeroing in on my shirt where the clamps tent the front, and finally to the chain visibly running from under my shirt into my pants.
Her eyes flick meaningfully to Spider. She lets out a chortle and clears her throat, washing the same glass again. I glare at her, and she grins.