The Biker's Plaything

by Sam Crescent

  “Not a chance. You think I’m going to give up the opportunity to be inside virgin pussy?”

  “You’re vulgar, and if you think I’m letting you give me anything—”

  “I’m clean, but don’t worry, I’ve got a doctor who can get you the necessary pills.” He was on his cell phone again.

  “Wait a second, I’m not finished.”

  “Hurry up,” he said, not even looking at her.

  “You can’t beat me, cut me, or mark me in any way,” she said. “I don’t like pain.”

  He looked up, brow raised. “What kind of sicko do you take me for?” he asked. She didn’t answer. “Is that it?”

  Nothing else came to mind, and she nodded.

  What the fuck had she done?

  Chapter Four

  Lord left the building. Brick was on him within minutes.

  “What happened with the girl?”

  “She’s in my office.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I’m keeping her … until I tire of her, anyway.”

  Brick raised an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “It’s not exactly your MO.”

  It was true Lord usually liked things cleaned up quickly. No loose ends. It was completely out of the ordinary for him to keep an enemy of the club around, one he’d planned to torture and kill.

  Of course, Brick was taken off guard. He couldn’t understand it himself.

  “I’m full of surprises today, ain’t I? Get one of the girls to bring her food. No one touches her, make sure of it.”

  “Where you going?”

  “The gym.”

  He didn’t plan on changing his schedule for Ally. In fact, he needed to clear his head more than ever right now. He’d made a deal with the devil and wasn’t sure if it was the right decision. The things he wanted to do to that virgin body were unholy. But he was heading to the gym instead of dragging her to his bedroom. When had he grown a conscience?

  Lord began adding weight to the bar, fitting on the rings one at a time, heavy metal clanging against metal. A couple of brothers were working out in the back, but they kept to themselves. When he lifted, he liked to zone out. He wasn’t there for chitchat.

  Just before he started his reps, Reaper came rushing into the room.

  “We have a problem, Lord,” he said. “One of the Skull Nation boys.”

  “What now?”

  “One of our girls from the whorehouse up north was slashed in the face. The fucker told her she could work for them or die.”

  “Work for them?”

  “They’re trying to take over the entire town.”

  Lord shook his head. “Wait a minute.” He pointed a finger. “Where was her protection? The whorehouse has at least six brothers keeping watch over the girls.”

  “I don’t have all the details.”

  The little northern town wasn’t of value in itself, but it was waterfront and droves of tourists flocked to the beachfront on a continuous basis. They owned the town, and business was thriving. From sex to drugs, it was a cash cow. Now the Skull Nation MC wanted to move in on their turf, and Lord wouldn’t stand for it. His men who’d fucked up and let this unfold would pay. He’d make sure of it. The Straight to Hell MC was supposed to be on top of their game. This never should have happened.

  “Where’s the girl now?”

  “Out front. Gabriel drove her down.”

  He took one last look at his weights and exhaled his displeasure. Lord slung a hand towel over his shoulder and followed Reaper out of the gym.

  Several bikes roared in the yard, Gabriel and the whore from up north the center of attention. Lord walked up to her and grabbed her face by the chin, turning her head from side to side. The knife slash would leave a nasty scar, but she looked otherwise unscathed.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Misty.”

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said. “Don’t even think about bullshitting me.”

  “He had a boxcutter. He grabbed me—”

  “Was he in the house? Did he pretend to be a customer?”

  She sniffled. “No.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “I went for a walk with Amber. We were going for a coffee in town.”

  Lord ran a hand through his hair. “You tell the boys you were leaving? Or did you just decide it was a good idea to leave yourselves vulnerable?”

  She shrugged.

  He was about to backhand the bitch but restrained himself. “Who do you work for?”

  “You, Lord. I’d never sell out, I swear.”

  He shifted his attention to Gabriel. “We protect our own. The girls work for us, we keep them safe. That’s how this fucking works.”

  “There was no warning. We’re a blip on the map. We never expected something like this to go down.”

  “No one takes what’s ours.” He grabbed Misty by the upper arm and shoved her toward Gabriel. “Take Reaper and Stump with you. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Report back to me.”

  If Skull Nation wanted to fuck with him, they’d live to regret it. Depending on how many of them had moved in on the town, he’d make his next move accordingly. His club had run the supply of drugs, guns, and whores along the entire east coast for decades. He may be getting older, but until he was dead and buried, he’d defend everything in their territory.

  “What do you want them to do with Misty?” asked Brick.

  “She can still open her legs.”

  Lord had never raped a woman, and he didn’t force them to work for him. His club whores and the many working in his network of brothels were there more than willing and eager to work up the ranks. They loved the money, the attention, and belonging to the Straight to Hell MC. It was one big, fucked-up family. And they all answered to him.

  “Boss?”

  He turned and glared at Brick. His patience fading quickly. His VP jutted his chin to the far end of the yard. A curvy little blonde was tiptoeing around the buildings, making her way toward the main gates.

  For some reason, it didn’t push him over the edge like it should. He had to stop himself from smiling. “Bring her to me.”

  He watched as Brick retrieved Ally and carried her back kicking and screaming over his shoulder. When he set her down on her feet in front of him, he stood with his arms crossed.

  She looked up at him with those deceptively innocent eyes. “I was taking a walk.”

  “That’s the best you’ve got?”

  “You never came back to the office. I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.”

  “From what I remember, we had a deal. Are you reneging already?”

  She shook her head, and it pleased him.

  “Want her to ride with me, Lord? I’m heading up north anyway. I can drop her off at the whorehouse and get her out of your hair for good,” said Stump.

  “This pussy isn’t for sale. She belongs to me.” He waved a hand in the air, making a circle above him. “Head out. Find out what we’re dealing with.”

  The bikes drove off and onlookers spread out, going back to their own business. Leaving him alone with Ally in the vast, empty yard, the remnants of dust settling.

  “You were trying to escape. How far did you think you’d get before I found you?”

  “I hadn’t planned that much ahead.”

  He pointed to the armed guards patrolling the entrance. “You wouldn’t have made it a foot past the gates. You’ve already seen what happens to traitors. Now, let’s not have this happen again. Understand?”

  This time, she nodded. “Who was that other girl? With the cut face?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Who do you think she was? My last conquest?”

  “Probably.”

  Lord narrowed his eyes. She continually tested him, and normally, he’d never tolerate it. There was just something about this particular girl that entertained him.

  “She’s not my type,” said Lord.

 
He led her back to the clubhouse, walking by her side. Once inside, he told her to take off her sweater.

  “What? Why?”

  “I own you, Ally. Stop questioning everything and do what I ask.”

  She looked side to side, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. It amazed him how her innocence was such a fucking turn-on. As she unbuttoned the ugly sweater, part of him wanted to soothe her fears. But that wasn’t his job. She was just a temporary distraction.

  Ally moved teasingly slow.

  “Tonight would be good,” he prodded.

  She slipped it off over her shoulders, revealing a fitted pastel-pink tank top underneath.

  “No bra?”

  Ally crossed her arms, trying unsuccessfully to hide those big, sloppy tits from him. She scowled. “I know I need one, okay. I always take it off with my uniform before leaving work. It’s not comfortable.”

  “I like you like this. Nothing like a perfect fucking rack.”

  This time, she made eye contact with him. She definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. Little did she know he wanted to drown in those lush curves. His cock was already painfully hard.

  “Come closer.”

  Lord sat on the edge of one of the large wooden bench tables in the main entrance. There were usually a couple of brothers sitting around. Right now, it was just the two of them.

  She approached him. Tentatively.

  “Closer,” he said.

  Once she was within arm’s length, he hooked his hand around her back and pulled her between his parted legs.

  “Lift up your shirt.”

  She shook her head.

  “These are my tits now. You better get used to feeding them to me when I ask.”

  Ally took a deep breath, not saying another word. Ever so slowly, she pulled up her top until the material stretched over the full sloping peaks. Her nipples were big, ripe buds, making his mouth salivate.

  “Give one to me.”

  He watched as she grabbed her own breast and lifted it toward his mouth, her nipple teasing his lips. When he opened, taking as much of her as he could, she moaned—quickly trying to mask the sound.

  Lord suckled her tit, then switched to the other. He was already addicted to Ally. Women with tits half her size were usually plastic. She was all soft and natural, exactly how a woman should be.

  He leaned away, his hand still on her back, keeping her in place. “You liked that.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Cover up. I don’t want anyone else seeing this body but me.”

  Lord wanted to run his hands through her blonde hair. To stare into her eyes. To kiss her. He never kissed women. What was happening to him?

  ****

  Ally had been holding her breath.

  This should be a nightmare. She’d had to choose between death or becoming a biker’s whore. She chose the latter, and he was already subjecting her to his sexual whims.

  Why wasn’t she hating this more?

  Why did his no-holds-barred sexuality only turn her on?

  There was something dark and brutal about Lord that scared her, but also something more, something that pulled her in. She wanted to please him, wanted him to love her. Stupid fairy-tale thoughts wouldn’t help her in a motorcycle club, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She was only nineteen, but she’d been on her own for a long time. It was draining supporting herself while hoping for a better future. Her parents had done a number on her. Lord’s possessiveness made her feel wanted for the first time in her life.

  But it was all an illusion.

  “What’s your real name?” he asked.

  She raised a brow. “You already know everything about me.”

  “Ally Prixman. What’s Ally short for?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  Ally shrugged. “My mother just liked the name, I guess. Trust me, there’re no beautiful stories connected with my life.” She took a breath. “I’m just Ally.”

  He raked his gaze down her body. Everywhere he looked seemed to heat up in return. His beard was thick and masculine, and his scars made her curious, but she didn’t dare ask questions.

  “You sure you’re a virgin?”

  She nodded.

  “We could charge a pretty fucking penny for you in the whorehouse. Clients pay top dollar for virgins. I could even auction you off for a small fortune.”

  Her entire body tensed up. She didn’t want to be bought and sold by filthy men looking for sex. She wanted to be Lord’s. For once in her life, she wanted to matter to someone. In fact, she craved it more than air.

  “But I’m a greedy bastard.” He stood up, towering over her. “Did you eat?”

  “Someone brought me food.”

  “Was it good?”

  She shrugged, not wanted to appear rude. Some half-dressed woman with leathery skin had dropped her off a questionable-looking ham sandwich. With her nerves already flared, she couldn’t stomach anything.

  He made a sound of disapproval and led her up a series of hallways and a set of stairs. The compound was huge. She’d be terrified here if it wasn’t for him, and that didn’t make any sense.

  Near the end of a hallway, he held open a door. She stepped inside what she assumed was his bedroom. There was a king-sized bed, the blankets bunched up on one side. The room smelled like him, a delicious mix of leather and musk.

  “You’re the first woman who’ll be sleeping in that bed.”

  She turned to look at him. He wasn’t joking.

  “Are you a virgin, too, Lord?” She bit her lip to keep from giggling.

  “I don’t let whores in my bed.”

  He walked over to a dark wooden dresser. It looked like an antique. He picked up a two-way radio and began reciting a long list of food dishes. She only half paid attention as she was busy exploring his room, taking in as much as possible. Her future was as uncertain as her feelings.

  The colors around her were dark: blacks, browns, and some burgundies. His choice of furniture was classic and timeless. It didn’t look like what she’d expect a biker’s bedroom to look like, but she had no clue what she actually expected.

  “I’m having some clothes sent up for you. You’ll need to be comfortable while you’re here.”

  She turned to his voice and saw him set the radio down. “How long will that be?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “What does that mean? Do I get to leave once to take my virginity? Or am I your prisoner forever?”

  “You’re talkative for a girl who should be dead. I’ve never gone soft when dealing with rats. And that’s exactly what’s happening here. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

  He sounded disappointed with himself for keeping her alive, like being human was a weakness. With his reputation, she was a bit surprised herself.

  “My father was a rat, not me.”

  “And what are you, Ally Prixman?”

  Her body immediately tensed. There was this sliver of hope that he felt the same odd pull between them. Maybe his conflict was proof that she was more than an average woman to him. Or she was dreaming and her fantasies would come crashing down in a hurry.

  “I’m … I’m just a girl trying to survive in life. Trying to find happiness even when it’s constantly being stripped away from me.”

  “So you’re a glass-half-full kind of girl.” He winked.

  He didn’t pity her. It was refreshing.

  His calm, deep baritone soothed her. He never made eye contact, just continued doing what he’d been doing despite the fact she’d just left herself vulnerable. It was rare for her to share her deep-seated feelings.

  Lord tugged off his t-shirt. His shoulders were huge and corded with muscle, his skin covered in intricate ink. She couldn’t stop staring. He was a beast of a man.

  He rooted in his drawer, then pulled on a white wife-beater. When he turned, she quickly looked to the floor. The shirt hugged his muscles, highlighting those
six-pack abs. Her cheeks felt as hot as a cooktop. Did he realize she’d been staring? Maybe drooling?

  He chuckled. “Your age is showing.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “What does that mean?”

  “You haven’t lost your innocence.” Someone knocked on his door, capturing her attention. “I like that.” He went to answer it.

  She could smell the food almost immediately. Her stomach rumbled in response. The last time she’d eaten was over twenty-four hours ago, and it hadn’t been much. Just some leftovers she’d managed at the bar.

  “Sweetheart, give me a hand.”

  It took her a few seconds to realize he was talking to her. She wasn’t used to terms of endearment, even if it was normal for him.

  Ally walked closer to the door. Three scantily clad women stood in the hall holding trays of food. Lord handed one to her and told her to put it on the bed.

  After the door closed tight, she couldn’t help but comment, “This looks a lot better than the sandwich they gave me.”

  “I’m their prez. They make sure to give me the best.”

  He set his tray next to hers on the bed. It was a feast, a smorgasbord of food she wasn’t used to. Everything looked mouthwatering, like a meal fit for a king—or the president of a motorcycle club. Lord flicked on the large screen television.

  “Here are some clothes.” He tossed a few women’s clothes on the mattress near her. “Why don’t you get changed, then we can enjoy this food and watch a movie.”

  Ally was genuinely confused but was too scared to complain and ruin a good thing. Her curiosity got the better of her and she couldn’t keep her big mouth shut.

  “Why are you being nice to me?”

  He froze, obviously taken aback. Time seemed to stand still as he stared at her, his shoulders back and eyes cold. What had she done?

  “Don’t mistake kindness for weakness, little girl. Trust me, when the time comes, you won’t be able to say the same thing.”

  She swallowed hard but kept pushing. “Why?”

  He growled, his jaw twitching. “Just eat the fucking food.”

  This time, she kept her thoughts to herself. Honestly, she didn’t want things to change between them. Right now, she felt calm and safe—even if she was technically his prisoner. It was a big change from her usually hectic and unpredictable life. She had a roof over her head, clothes, food, and a man she was undeniably falling for.