The Biker's Needs

by Sam Crescent

  Peterson owed him a lot of money, and he was tired of the excuses. The only reason he put up with the bullshit was because he happened to find the old man entertaining. The son of a bitch was mayor of this town and happened to have a serious gambling problem. Forge was all about helping those in need. The mayor liked to use his club to deal with certain problems, old skeletons in the closet, and being the nice guy he was, Forge was more than happy to oblige at a cost.

  Now the debt was overdue, and Forge and his crew had done what was necessary to keep Peterson’s reputation squeaky clean.

  He was bored of the entertainment, and it was time to step it up a notch or two, or even three. He didn’t have any problems hurting the bastard, and in fact, would rather enjoy hearing him squeal. There hadn’t been enough bloodshed in his life of a late, and he was growing tired of being nice.

  Just as Forge was about to give up and head back to his clubhouse to plan his strategy with his men, three black cars slowly pulled up across the abandoned plot. He took a final draw on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and stamping on it.

  Stepping forward, he knew two of his men were by his sides, Dog and Hound. Dog was his VP and Hound his enforcer.

  There was no doubt his other men were waiting, hands poised on weapons, prepared to make this very bloody if they had to. Before the night was over, if Peterson had fucked with him, he’d slit the bastard’s throat.

  One of the guards opened the back door and Peterson, with all his airs and graces, climbed out, buttoning his jacket as he did.

  “You think this is a fucking joke?” Forge asked.

  The door of the car remained open as Peterson stepped forward. If Forge didn’t recognize terror so well, he would have assumed the man before him was cool as a cucumber. But he wasn’t. The telltale shaking, the pale face, and overall fear dripped off him. He liked to make men nervous and well, this fucker was exceedingly so. Even with his band of security, it didn’t mean he was safe.

  “I apologize for my lateness,” Peterson said.

  “Where’s my money?”

  “I … I don’t have it.”

  Forge tutted. “You know I don’t like it when someone tries to take the piss.” He grabbed Peterson by his jacket, pulling him forward so they were nose to nose. “You better call off your men now!” He spoke slowly.

  Peterson’s guards had all drawn their weapons, ready to shoot to kill. Forge had no doubt his men were in exactly the same stance. He trusted them to aim and take their enemies out. What he didn’t know was if Peterson’s men were properly trained or designed to look like fighters. Most of them looked a little too young for his tastes.

  “It’s fine. Back off. Lower your weapons,” Peterson said, his voice shaking.

  “Now, I’m thinking I break a couple of your arms. Maybe even your legs. I want to hear you scream. Hell’s Slaves are not to be made a fool of, do you understand me?” He’d gladly hear the sound of breaking bones.

  “Wait, wait,” Peterson said. Perspiration dotted his brow.

  “You think you can order me around?”

  “It’s … I have an arrangement that may be suitable for you.”

  Forge laughed. “You think you can buy me? The only thing I want is my money.”

  “But what if there was something else? Something that is so hard to come by in this day and age. Something only you will ever be able to claim. To own. To possess.”

  He hated being a curious bastard. There was nothing he didn’t know about this son of a bitch and yet, here he was, offering him something more, and he was interested.

  “Go on.”

  “You’re going to need to let me go long enough to arrange it.”

  Forge thrust him away from him but didn’t let him go. “This is as far as you’re getting.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Peterson looked behind him. His entire body shook as he nodded at one of his men.

  Glancing over the man’s shoulder, he watched as someone entered the car. He heard a muffled scream and in the next minute, a woman was pulled from the car. She wore a robe and someone had tied a piece of rope across her mouth, stopping any sound from her.

  He noticed how blonde her hair was. It was almost white and it looked soft, silken to the touch. Next, her eyes. They were blue, like a clear ocean, only these were swimming with tears. She wore no makeup. Tears traced down her cheek and he didn’t know why seeing her scared sent a wave of protective need rushing through him. He wanted to protect her.

  The man restraining her held her up.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “This … is my bastard daughter. No one knows about her but me. This is Beth Peterson. The result of an unfortunate affair with the nanny. As far as anyone is concerned, she works for me. Only those closest to me know who she truly is.”

  “And why would I want the offspring you won’t even claim?” Forge asked. “I can get any pussy I want.”

  “Exactly. You can have any. I can have a doctor confirm my daughter is … a virgin. No man has ever touched her and I know, I’ve made sure of it. I knew one day she’d come in useful and seeing as you’re surrounded by very loose women, I figured something tight and hot would do the trick.”

  With each word Peterson spoke, Forge watched the daughter. She hung her head in shame. She didn’t like her father and what he was doing scared her, but there was something else. She was used to this kind of treatment.

  “Open it,” Peterson said.

  Without waiting, the guard tore the robe off Beth’s body, showing her to everyone, including his men.

  Forge gritted his teeth as he wanted to bash Peterson’s head in. When she tried to cover herself, the guard held her arms out, stopping her from doing exactly that. He wanted to slam his fist into the bastard’s face but he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction. Not today.

  Beth’s body was beautiful. Curves in all the right places. Heavy tits. Nice rounded hips. The kind designed to lure a man to hold on to. Breeding hips. For a moment, he wondered how she would look with a nice rounded stomach, full of his child.

  “And she’s a virgin. No man has ever touched her. If you’d like, I can get this confirmed for you. You’ll be the first and only man to ever be between her pretty thighs.”

  It wasn’t her virginity he was after, or even her body, even though he intended to have both. What Peterson didn’t realize was that he was about to give away a wealth of knowledge. After this, Forge intended to do whatever it took to bring this bastard to his knees. He didn’t like bullies, or any man who thought they could use power like this to fuck with others.

  She sniffled.

  He wanted to protect her.

  “And what do you hope to get of this?” Forge asked.

  “The debt wiped clean.”

  “No,” Forge said.

  “Do you have any idea how much a virgin would gain at an auction?” Peterson asked. “Millions of dollars.”

  “I’m taking the girl and I’ll be getting my money. You like your cushy life, don’t you? The power you wield. If you think to take the girl after giving her to me, you’ll be out of office by the morning and your wealth, what little of it you have left along with the power, will be wiped out.” He stepped up close. “Do you want to try me on this?”

  “But—”

  “An extension is all you get. Nothing more.” He looked toward Beth, seeing her shake. “You lost any power of reducing the bill when you allowed others to look at her. Cover her up.”

  The guard quickly put her robe back on and he nodded, satisfied. Holding out his hand, he waited for her to step toward him.

  “Do we have a deal or do you want to test my patience even more?” Forge asked.

  “Fine. Yes, an extension is exactly what I need. Go, Beth. Be a good girl like I’ve told you to always be.”

  She was shoved toward him and he held her close, feeling just how scared she was.

  Her tremors angered him. He would take care of her and she was going to
tell him every single detail about her father and his business.

  ****

  “You’re nothing but a whore. You were made with a whore and that’s exactly what you are.”

  All her life, Beth knew how much her father despised her and his wife. They couldn’t have her mother running off and telling the media how he took advantage of her. So, they’d kept her at home during the whole pregnancy, only for her mother to die giving birth to her, and Peterson had seen it as a way of making millions of potential viewers loving him. He had designs for the big job and to do that, he had to be memorable. So he took in his nanny’s child, and Beth, she rarely went out. They wouldn’t allow her.

  She was nothing more than a slave within the Peterson household until there was a need for her to smile at the camera and to pretend everything was okay. She hated pretending. Forcing a smile to her lips so people assumed she was happy.

  Glancing around the room she’d been locked in, she felt sick to her stomach.

  Her father hadn’t lied.

  She was a virgin.

  Untouched.

  No one had ever given her the time of day.

  She let out a sniffle, wiping beneath her nose. If she didn’t do exactly as her father wanted, he was going to kill her. She’d been told to distract Forge. To give him whatever he wanted.

  Before being dragged into the car, she’d been forced to watch porn. Saw a woman deep throat a man, take him into her pussy and then her ass, before sucking on his cock again. They’d made her watch and told her what she had to do.

  She closed her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the bathrobe closer to her. Back at the Peterson mansion, after her chores, she had her own little room down at the end of the yard. It wasn’t much. A small house. One bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom. She loved it. Every single evening, she would leave and pretend like she was only going to a job. Not that she was a prisoner. One day, she hoped to be free. To be far away from the Petersons and to have a life where no one dictated to her what she had to do. She’d yet to achieve that but she had hoped. She always did.

  There was no reason to even think about giving up.

  Now though, locked in the MC Prez’s bedroom at his clubhouse, she felt even more afraid. He’d looked so angry as he took her. Riding on the back of his bike was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.

  Covering her face, she hoped her body stopped shaking soon. She had to keep telling herself it would all be fine. Her father threatened to have her killed multiple times a week. This was no different. He couldn’t hurt her here.

  What if Forge and his men were meant to be the ones to finally kill her? To clean up his twenty-four-year-old mess.

  The door to the bedroom opened and Forge, the man who now owned her, stepped inside. He held something in his hands but she couldn’t make it out. The light coming from the lamps didn’t cast enough glow to show every single corner of the room.

  She lowered her hands and stared at him, feeling frozen to the spot.

  “Did you offer to come here? Is this all an act?” He pointed at her body.

  At first, she didn’t know if this was a trap. If she told him the truth, would he tell her father? Would he beat her? She’d been on the other end of a belt before. If there was one thing she knew, she didn’t like to be hurt, to be whipped. Even being slapped. She hated it all.

  “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not a monster,” he said. “I’ve brought you some clothes. I want to know the truth. Do you get off on this sort of thing?”

  He held out two items of clothing. They looked like jeans and a shirt.

  “You want me to wear clothes?” she asked. Her voice didn’t sound like hers.

  “Yeah, I do. Does that surprise you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I figured you’d be hungry. I haven’t eaten for most of the day. We’ve got the grill fired up, and you’re welcome to join us.”

  “I am?”

  Forge laughed. “Exactly who are you?”

  “I’m no one,” she said, answering quickly.

  “Something tells me you’re way more than someone.”

  She pressed her lips together, not wanting to give anything away.

  “Fine. Your secrets are your own. I won’t pry just yet.” He shook the clothes. “Here, take them.”

  She got off the bed, grabbing them.

  Forge then surprised her as he turned, giving her some privacy. “Get changed. I’ll escort you down. Not all the boys were there when I picked you up. They need to know not to mess with you. You belong to me.”

  He was being … kind. She wasn’t used to anyone caring.

  “I didn’t offer to be this,” she said, quickly pulling the jeans up her body and the shirt over her head. “You can look.” She folded her arms across her chest, trying to hide herself.

  Forge removed his leather cut and handed it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s for you.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. Wear it. It’ll make you feel more comfortable.” He held it open and she stepped into it.

  The warmth of his body surrounded her and for the first time all night, she felt safe. Warm. “Thank you.”

  “Do not mistake this kindness I’m offering you as any weakness. You belong to me, Beth.”

  She nodded, feeling the smile fall from her. Of course. There was no chance of her ever being happy. She was surrounded by men determined to hurt her. Who only wanted to use her for their own gains.

  Her father had made sure she wasn’t near any men growing up, believing her virgin state would help his cause. He’d been right. Look at where she was now. In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by an MC club she didn’t know, with instructions to keep him happy.

  The first time she saw a naked man was on a television screen with her father right beside her and his men. It had been so embarrassing. She was sure if there had been more time, he’d have even forced her to practice. The humiliation washed over her.

  “Now, are you hungry?”

  She nodded her head. It was easier not to talk. To just nod her head. Be the quaint little submissive everyone wanted her to be. Not to put up a fight or to pretend she wanted her own life.

  Forge took her hand and she tried to ignore the heat coming from him. Even as he’d brought her swiftly down to the real world, he still felt safe and warm.

  They left the bedroom, walking down the long corridor, going toward the stairs. There were several rooms on the floor, and they were on the third floor. Forge had told her on the way up. They went to the main clubhouse floor. Men and women were singing, dancing, laughing, drinking, having a good old time of it.

  Forge didn’t linger. He pulled her toward the kitchen where the counters were laden with food.

  Her mouth watered.

  He let go of her hand but didn’t walk away. He handed her a plate and she took it, staring at the food.

  She had always been on a diet at Peterson’s house. The family cook had to prepare her meals and she never felt full. Of course she never went hungry but she’d never been satisfied and if Peterson’s wife felt like it, her rations were often cut in half.

  Just another reminder of the whore’s daughter she was.

  Pushing those feelings aside, she walked with Forge and put food on her plate.

  “You can have whatever you want.” Forge turned toward the women in the kitchen. “She belongs to me. You give her any trouble, you answer to me. I won’t have you fucking with her. Understand?” His voice filled the space of the kitchen. He was so loud and commanding.

  The women nodded and within seconds, they were gone. They’d rather clear out of the kitchen than risk being near her.

  Nice.

  No, she felt miserable. No one would ever take the risk to be her friend.

  Once her plate was full, she took a seat beside Forge, but her appetite had disappeared. She grabbed her fork and began to work through her food. Her
hand shook and she tried to stop it. She didn’t want to draw attention or anger him.

  “Those women, they’re club pussy. You don’t need to get mixed up with them. They’ll never be your friends.”

  “I didn’t … why did they leave?” she asked. Could he read her mind?

  “Because they know not to be around me unless I want them. Don’t ever be alone with club pussy. I’ll introduce you to some of the old ladies. They will more than likely be your friend.”

  Did she even want a friend right now?

  End of sample chapter

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