Saved by the Dark

by Ann Jensen

  Phoebe wished she could vanish right into the floor, but that wouldn’t get her fed or make her look any better to the Brothers. When she stepped out, Puck looked worried and Kickstand stood against the wall looking disgusted. Every surface was covered in grocery bags.

  “How much food did you buy?”

  Kickstand shrugged. “Just what you had on your list but lots of it. Every Brother we asked wanted in on the meal.”

  “How many is that?”

  “Around twenty-five, but we eat a lot..”

  Well, she would make as much as she could and if there were leftovers, she guessed she would have to ask them to get Tupperware. The smell of the Italian spices revitalized a part of her spirit as she diced and chopped, letting the sauce simmer on low. She popped veggies in her mouth, loving the fresh flavor that zipped across her tongue.

  A few hours later Phoebe closed her eyes and savored the sweet tang of the tomato. All around her were fresh produce and vegetables as she cooked one meal and prepped several others. Taking just a taste of each item made her want to giggle in disbelief. She had believed that the little things like this had been gone from her life forever. Just outside the window large burly men ate her food and she couldn’t help but revel in the pure joy she saw on their faces as they took that first bite.

  The only thing that would be better would be to hear them going silent as they ate, distracted from conversation by wanting another taste. She wasn’t ready for that; there were too many of them and, without Sharp by her side, her courage was greatly limited. Puck was a dream, helping her move things around and getting them settled while Kickstand glowered from the corner, standing and eating his food with an almost resentful enjoyment.

  When the last dish was stored away, and the final pan washed, Phoebe was surprised by the dark sky outside the window. Rowdy noises of drinking and partying were muffled by the door but obviously coming from the front room. Cold sweat prickled over Phoebe’s skin. She couldn’t go in there, the Brothers would be drinking and having a good time. She wanted to believe what Val had said: she was safe, but her mind and her heart weren’t able to believe it. Sneaking out the side door and up the stairs to her bedroom she let out a breath as she turned the lock, giving her at least the illusion of privacy.

  There wasn’t any more she could do tonight without risking running into people. Her best option was to try to sleep while they partied. Tomorrow before anyone woke, to show her worth, she would clean up the rest of the rooms. Pacing her private room, Phoebe couldn’t get her stomach to settle. Thoughts of the past and what might happen ricocheted through her brain.

  Annoyed but unable to stop the horror show of possibilities in her mind she decided to put the chair up against the door for extra security.

  Chapter 8

  It’s good to be… where the hell am I again?

  Sharp was glad to be pulling into the compound, knowing he wouldn’t have to leave again for a while; there weren’t any scheduled runs in the next few weeks. Returning to a more normal routine at his garage and getting to know every detail of his little Phoebe was all he had planned. For days, his Brothers had been sending him sexy as fuck candid photos of her and he didn’t mind admitting he had been turned on but pissed as hell he couldn’t use her to relieve the ache they caused. Tiny ass sundresses showcased legs he wanted wrapped around him. The picture of Val and his woman laid out in the sun in tiny scraps of fabric meant to be a bikini was burned forever into his memory.

  Puck had said she was settling in well, but Sharp had an overwhelming need to see her and claim her as his own. Jealousy had never been his thing. Hell, he loved seeing the envy in a man’s eyes when they desired the woman he was with. When Brothers had sent texts asking if Phoebe was off-limits, he knew they had been fucking with him, but his rage and, yeah, fucking jealousy, confused him. How could a woman he barely knew make him so possessive?

  He ignored the Brothers he passed, simply waving a greeting because he didn’t want to stop to talk. All he had been thinking about for the last three days was getting back to those bright emerald eyes and the sweet and sexy woman who owned them. When he stepped inside the Clubhouse what he saw made him pause. It looked completely transformed. Had someone painted the walls and floor? The whole place looked new. The usual scent of stale beer and cigarettes was barely noticeable. Had it even looked this good when they bought the place eight years ago? It was five-thirty and already there were about thirty Brothers lounging around the main room. Unusual for this early in the day. What the hell had happened while he was gone?

  “Sharp!” Hawk’s voice carried over the bar, which now had shining chrome and cherry colored wood. Had the wood always been that red and hidden under years of dirt? The president sat at the bar with a beer in front of him with Max, the Dark Son’s laid back and always cheerful Road Captain, on his left. A large jar sat on the edge of the bar next to them practically overflowing with money. A large white label with the words ‘Groceries for Pixie’ scrawled in red ink was fixed to the front of the jar. Whoever Pixie was, she was getting a shit ton of groceries because, from this close, he could see all the bills were tens and twenties.

  Slightly stunned with all the changes, he exchanged greetings and backslaps with the President and Road Captain, taking another look around the place. “What the hell happened here? You guys spring for Merry Maids?”

  Max smiled through the wild brown beard he liked to sport and slapped his arm. “Your woman is magic, VP. She’s like Suzie homemaker on crack.”

  Hawk smirked, his brown eyes sparked with mischief. “Yeah, you better treat that girl right, man, or you’ll have half the Brothers fighting over who gets to take her off your hands. She not only cleaned this place up – while we were all sleeping mind you – she’s been feeding every Brother who’s here home-cooked meals.”

  “She makes bread that can make a grown man cry, you lucky fucker. Lunch is sandwiches, which you might say ‘big deal’, but they are on home-fucking-made bread. Damn, if she didn’t run and hide every time I get closer than ten feet, I might try to fight you for her.” Max’s tone was laughing but his eyes told Sharp he was deadly serious.

  Fuck. What had his woman been up to? At best he thought she would have taken a walk or two around the compound. Maybe meet a few Brothers, make a friend. He never imagined she would scrub the place until it shined and seduce his Brothers with food. He scowled wondering if maybe she had found someone else while he was away.

  “Don’t worry that you’re footing the bill,” Hawk teased him. “After her lasagna on Monday the boys started this to make sure she had any and all ingredients she needed.”

  Sharp didn’t give a shit about money, he had plenty. He studied the full jar trying to take it in. “Pixie?”

  Max shrugged. “It fits. She’s so tiny and fucking adorable with everything she touches. Every Brother who has met her can’t help but want to keep her safe.” The Road Captain clenched his fists as dark thoughts crossed his face. “We’ve been looking into the dickhead who hurt her. You can bet your ass when the time comes, every man here has your back.”

  Sharp had never doubted his Brothers’ support; being a Dark Son meant you never had to fight alone. Actually knowing his Brothers believed in her cause meant something more. He looked around the room with new understanding of how she had done so much in under seventy-two hours. This chapter had over a hundred members, but some came out solely for church and official gatherings. About twenty lived at the compound. Another twenty floated in and out but didn’t usually show up until late at night for drinking and fucking. Homemade meals meant every single man who could, would show up.

  “Where’s my girl now?”

  “Dinner’s at six so she is back in the kitchen working her magic. Puck says it is sausage alfredo with, again, home-fucking-made garlic bread.” Max rolled his eyes like bread was the equivalent to a good blowjob.

  Sharp shook his head and headed off to see what his little Pixie was up to. He liked
the name his Brothers had given her. They may have only met days ago and barely spoken, but she definitely had some magic because she haunted his every thought. The small taste of her he had gotten on Monday hadn’t been nearly enough. She could finish up dinner but after that, he was taking her back to his place and locking the door until morning.

  He lived a few hundred yards away, behind the Clubhouse. The officers each had a small house on the land within over a hundred acres that made up compound grounds. Hell, he should have had her moved in there before he had left but hadn’t thought of it. That is until he realized he wanted one on one time with her. Sharp walked through the door and lost his breath at the sight of the woman standing in the kitchen.

  Pixie was breathtaking in a white sundress with tiny flowers embroidered on the cloth. The dress hit her around the knees and her hair was up in an innocent ponytail that had blond curls spilling down over her shoulders. Even the mottled bruising and cuts, still clearly visible, did nothing to detract from the angelic picture she made stirring something on the stove.

  “No one in the kitchen while Pixie’s cooking.” Puck’s voice was firm but polite. The prospect looked up and recognized Sharp. He smiled, stepping back. “Hey, Pixie, you got a visitor.”

  Phoebe turned and he loved the sight of her green eyes as they flashed with joy. Sharp couldn’t believe she could get more beautiful but, as she dropped the spoon on the counter and ran towards him, he knew he had been wrong. He caught her as she jumped up, managing to wrap her arms and legs around him.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” she mumbled into his neck, planting little kisses as she spoke.

  Sharp laughed. “I guess you missed me.” The feel of her body pressed up against his and the tiny kisses had his cock hard in seconds. He lifted her up until he could tilt his head down and kiss her lips.

  Sharp stepped forward, setting Pixie on the counter to free up his hands. He ran them through her hair devouring her sweet taste and silky feel. A loud buzzing sound interrupted his bliss as his little prize cursed under her breath and managed to wiggle down and around him.

  Amused, he leaned back crossing his arms as she opened the four different ovens and pulled out tray after tray of garlic bread that filled the room with their heavenly scent. A second buzzer went off and Sharp watched, impressed, as his woman quickly moved across the stove top pulling strainers of pasta out, rinsing them quickly and then spread the noodles out in prepared aluminum serving tins. Sharp exchanged a look of wonder with Puck at the contradiction that was his woman. In less than ten minutes she had fifteen large serving trays filled with alfredo covered pasta and enough sausage to feed a small army.

  That miracle of productivity completed, she skipped over to him and wrapped small arms around his waist, a beautiful smile of pride on her lips. Sharp kissed the top of her head. “That smells awesome darlin’.”

  Puck moved towards the door looking over at them. “You gonna step out, Pixie?”

  His woman shook her head, snuggling in close to his side. “No, I’m good.”

  Puck looked surprised, but swung open the door and shouted, “Foods on!”

  In less than a minute, Brothers swarmed the room grabbing trays and taking them outside. The whole thing appeared choreographed and Sharp wondered how so much could have changed in just three days. His growling stomach and hard cock warred in their desires to either try his woman’s cooking, or get her back to his place and start showing her all the things he had imagined doing to her.

  Hunger barely won out and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, darlin’, I can’t wait to taste your food.”

  Chapter 9

  My world may look like a peaceful meadow, but the landmines will kill you every time.

  Phoebe was filled with a mix of dread and comfort as Sharp sat her down beside him at the picnic table. She had never joined the Brothers for any of the meals she had cooked. Without the comforting presence of Sharp at her side, she wasn’t sure she could have. She loved cooking and cleaning; both tasks giving her a sense of accomplishment that had been missing from her life. Each effort had a start and end along with clearly defined success. But seeing these large men enjoying the food and sending compliments her way was like winning the trophy at the end of the race.

  Sharp’s hand was warm as it whirled circles on her thigh, settling her even more. Phoebe didn’t know if he realized he was doing it as he talked and joked with his Brothers, but he was moving her skirt slowly up under the table. The public display and thoughts that he might touch her here in front of all these men had her nipples hardening and her pussy damp.

  The tips of his fingers brushed against her panties and she drew in a sharp breath. Sharp leaned in and bit gently on the top of her ear.

  “Are you wet for me, darlin’?” His fingers slid under the silky fabric of her panties. “Damn, you are. I can fucking smell your sweet honey. All I’ve been able to think about for days is the feeling of those sweet lips wrapped around my cock, and how I was going to work you up so high but wouldn’t fuck you until you were begging me for it.”

  His fingers dipped inside her core and his palm pressed down on her clit, shooting sparks straight to her nipples. She licked her lips, her whole body ready for whatever he asked. Conflicting emotions tore through her at the idea of him doing whatever he wanted right here with all these men watching. The idea turned her on so much she nearly came while shame and fear caused her stomach to roil. She didn’t want him to know how much of a freak she was. Her worst fear the past two nights was that Sharp would discover just how fucked up and broken she was and send her back to Mitchel. Or worse, Caravaggio. She liked it here and wanted Sharp’s trust and the desire he instantly evoked by being near her.

  Somehow she had to find a way to suppress those broken parts of her and be exactly what he needed. Sharp pulled his hand away and up to his mouth, sparking a fresh wave of desire in her as he sucked the taste of her off his fingers. “You have fifteen minutes, little Pixie, to get what you need from the room. Then I am taking you home with me. I need to explore every inch of you and make you scream so loud they’ll hear you from across the field.”

  Sharp nodded to one of the houses she had noticed inside the fenced compound. The one he indicated was maybe five hundred yards away and faced the dirt road that circled the several-acre compound. Phoebe stood, pushing down the disappointment he wasn’t going to take her right now in front of everyone. It wouldn’t take her long to get all her stuff.

  She was back at his side next to his bike in fourteen minutes, with a tote bag slung across her chest filled with some of the clothes Val had gotten her.

  On the short ride around the side of the compound, Phoebe boldly let her hands slide down over the front of Sharp’s jeans rubbing the very impressive bulge there. It calmed something inside her to know he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. The small two-story house they pulled up in front of was well-maintained but lacked any sort of personality. Probably built in the 1900s, a giant shiny truck and two other Harleys were parked out front. Did Sharp live alone? Were these his? There was so much she didn’t know about this man who rescued her.

  The moment the bike was parked, Sharp’s arm swung around her waist and lifted her so she was facing him on the front of the bike. His lips took hers in a rough, biting kiss. She had to wrap her legs around his waist as he stood up, still kissing her, and got off the bike. His hands were gripping her ass, his cock pushing against her core as he walked them up the stairs and into the house.

  They made it a few feet inside the door before he tossed her bag to the side and pulled her dress up over her head. The feel of his rough jeans against her thighs and the leather of his cut and holster against her skin was an intoxicating mix. He pushed her against the wall, the sweet ache of her bruises mixed with the sensation of his lips closing over her braless breasts had her close to coming.

  He used one hand to hold her up, pressed against the wall, his mouth doing wonderful things
to her breast, while his other hand undid his jeans. She tried to rub against him to get some sort of friction on her clit, but her panties were just enough of a barrier to frustrate her. She moaned, her hands clenching on his shoulders wanting to help but unable to do anything in this position.

  Sharp growled pulling back. “You’re too fucking hot. I can’t wait another minute.”

  He ripped open a condom and somehow got it on. Her panties were loudly torn off her and then Sharp thrust up into her in one powerful stroke. She was so wet he slid right in, but he was so big her body struggled to adjust, spasming around his length. She screamed in beautiful pain and pleasure.

  Her orgasm took her so fast that she thrashed against him out of control, lost in bliss. “Fuck, you are so tight.” He slammed into her, his thrusts pushing her back against the wall in a brutal rhythm. She clutched at his hair trying to find some sort of anchor in the tidal wave of sensation. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them in one hand and pushing them up over her head against the wall.

  The sensation of something closing around her wrists pulled her out of the pleasure of the moment and into the horrors of the past. Image after image of being chained to a wall while Mitchel and other men humiliated her with her own body’s reaction to their torture ripped through her. Memories of Mitchel’s twisted game flooded her; being pushed beyond her limits until she was a broken wreck hanging limply by her ever-present cuffs.

  With the images came her unyielding thought; no one could want a twisted, broken thing like her. Eventually, they would see beyond the pretty surface to her shattered desperate soul and be sickened. She would never find happiness, a place or people who could accept all of her and she’d be safe. She had to hide what she wanted but it was impossible.

  Her mind closed in on itself looping around until it blanked out to preserve her sanity.