by Nicole Fox
I try kneeing him between the legs but he blocks. It does knock him off balance, though, since he’s injured. I get enough of a window to get away from him, but as I run for the door he manages to get ahold of the back of the flowy dress I’m wearing. I trip, scrambling, as he drops, still holding onto my clothing. Somehow I end up on my back, one of his hands underneath me, one leg across my belly, a dead log pinning me in drowning waters.
I can’t breathe as he frees his hand and puts it on my windpipe, squeezing, the knife high above my head in his other hand.
“Griz ain’t gonna do nothin’ useful with you; you might as well be one of our regular whores. Open for business,” he says, looking over my face with curiosity.
I fight against him but he’s holding me pretty good for a dude who’s gotten his ass kicked like three times this week.
“Hey now,” he says, tossing the knife aside and petting my hair. I cringe. “Hey, hey. Griz had his fun with you. Time for all of us to have a sample. You’ll like it. I’ll make it real good for you, princess.”
He’s got sweatpants on and his hard-on is obvious against the forgiving fabric, bumping like an insistent finger against my thigh. I gag.
He uses his free hand to pull his pants down, freeing his dick, shoving my dress up, exposing my pussy, left bare for Griz’ pleasure.
“Easy access,” he says. “Gotta love it.”
Everything’s a little fuzzy, as he’s still got pressure on my windpipe. I try to struggle but I feel like I’m stuck in a mud pit, not fully in control of my limbs. When I feel him enter me, I try to scream, but it’s a hoarse, laryngitic sound. It’s like one of those dreams we all have, where we try to scream but nothing comes out. A nightmare.
My vision goes fuzzy as he groans, but then, suddenly, he’s gone. My vision starts to clear, my heart picks up pace. I struggle to breathe, my throat raw as I cough and sputter. To one side of me, Griz has Spike against the wall with one hand while the other punches him repeatedly. I manage to roll to my side, pushing the knife toward him.
He ignores it, continuing to pummel Spike until he’s bloody and nearly unconscious. Griz tows him to the door and tosses him into the hallway. I hear him yell for someone, ordering them to lock him in a holding cell and not let him out, no matter what.
I’m picked up, taken to the shower. The water is warm and comforting as my senses return. Griz takes a washcloth and gently cleans between my legs.
It’s a long time before he speaks. It seems obvious that he’s furious but I see something else there, too. Sadness? Longing? Caring? I’m not sure, but it hurts my heart.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice scratchy. “You saved me.”
He cringes at the sound.
“Don’t talk,” he orders, gruff. “I’m sorry he … that’s not something I condone. Ever.”
“He only just …”
“No,” he interrupts. “His cock was inside of you. I don’t care if it was half a second. I don’t want to think about it or I’ll go kill him now.”
He bites his bottom lip and lets out a huge sigh, looking everywhere but at me. I reach up and touch his face, forcing him to see me. I need him to see me, to see that I’m okay, that I’m stronger than he thinks.
# # #
Griz
“You saved me,” she says for the second time, this time more slowly.
I meet her gaze. “He would have killed you,” I say. “He was killing you.”
She nods, her eyes wet with tears. “But he didn’t. Because of you.”
I bark out a vicious laugh. “Tanner, I’m not some fucking hero. I’m just not. I try to run as clean a business as I can but shit gets messy sometimes. I have to get my hands dirty sometimes. Please don’t make me into this tragic hero that you can fix or love or whatever.”
“Don’t push me away,” she says, her hands finding their way to my chest. I realize I’m still in my shirt and jeans. She’s still in her dress.
“There is no pushing away. I don’t want you for anything other than sex. And now you’re just a liability. There’s no reason for you to even be here.”
She looks stricken, her eyebrows creasing in the middle, lips turning down. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. What? You think you sleep in my bed a couple nights, wet my dick a few times, and I’ll be head over heels for you? Doesn’t work that way, honey. Sorry to tell you,” I say.
She pulls her wet dress over her head. Naked, she’s a wet goddess awaiting a human slave. I’d gladly drop to my knees and pledge fealty, but I need her to believe I don’t care. It’s easier for both of us. We can get over whatever this is. I’ll send her home. She’ll move on. I’ll get shit sorted here. We’ll both be better for it.
Her fingers tug at my shirt buttons onebyone until she’s got it open, pulling it from my shoulders. She follows with my pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, sliding them down. Pulling my soaking boots from my feet.
I’m totally bare to her, cock hard and proud, too proud to just mind its own business and feign disinterest, the traitor.
“I know you feel something,” she says.
“I feel like you need to leave,” I say, though it’s not as convincing as it sounded in my head.
“I won’t,” she says, stubborn.
“Tanner, I …” I bite my tongue, hard, and turn away. “Please listen to me. This is not a good place for you. I’m not a good person for you. You need to go.”
Her hands snake around my waist, splay across my stomach. “I don’t have much experience with sex, I know that. But I do know how I feel when I’m with you. And it’s different, much different, than it’s ever been with anyone else.”
“You’re young,” I say. “You don’t have any idea what’s out there, how things can feel.”
“I’m not a child,” she says, anger biting at her words. “I’m a woman. I have a brain. I have a heart. Stop telling me what to feel or not to feel. I’m not property.”
I spin back around and pick her up in one, swift motion, pulling her onto my cock. She gasps.
“You are my property,” I snarl, pushing her back against the shower wall, pounding in and out of her. “You are claimed. You are Chained Angels property and I am the original Chained Angel.”
She moans at the pace I set, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Yesss,” she hisses. “More. Yes. Fuck me.”
I set her down, lip curling with disgust. Here I am, making a power play after she’s been raped. I push my way out of the shower, letting the glass door slam behind me. When the water turns off immediately, I know she’s not going to let this go. She grabs me roughly by the shoulder and barely moves me. I turn around anyway, my shoulders set, ready to argue.
She pushes me but I’m a brick wall to her. She hits me in the chest several times. I just let her get it all out of her system, including kicking me in the shin like a four year old.
“You done?” I ask after the hitting and kicking slows down.
“What is wrong with you?” she cries.
“That’s a good question. I don’t have an answer,” I say.
She steps up in my face. We’re both still naked and I still want her, my body and my head at war. She starts to reach out to grab me, use sex to communicate with me, but I put my hands on her shoulders, pushing her gently but firmly away.
“Talk to me,” she begs. “Just … be a human for once. You’re not some emotionless robot; I know it. Just talk to me.”
I’m clenching my jaw so tightly my head hurts. I sit down on the chaise lounge and pinch my nose between my fingers. Tanner sits on the floor in front of me, giving zero fucks that she’s still totally naked and wet. I really believe she has no idea what effect she has on me, which is good, I guess, since my goal is to get her somewhere safe—somewhere the hell away from me, even though all I really want, for the first time in a long time, is to shut out the world and take her to bed.
“I haven’t … wanted … to feel things since Giselle died,” I finall
y say. “It hurts to even say her name, so I sure as hell don’t really want to think about her.”
Tanner’s eyes go wide. I don’t think she was expecting me to be so honest about my feelings. “Tell me about her?” she asks softly.
I shrug. “She was a prostitute.”
“That’s demeaning to her as a woman,” Tanner scolds. “And you know it’s the least important part about her, especially to you.”
Christ. How does this little girl, a virgin until very recently, know just how to get to me? I lie back, rubbing my head, closing my eyes.
“She was really funny and smart. Sassy. She was patient and compassionate. She encouraged me to build the kind of club I wanted to belong to. She would’ve been a great mom, whereas I’m a totally shit dad,” I say.
“I’m sure you’re not …”
“I missed Shannon’s first day of school today, because of all this garbage,” I interrupt. “She has to live with my sister because this life I live is too dangerous for her. Pretty sure that doesn’t qualify me for Dad of the Year.”
“That doesn’t make you shit,” she says. “It doesn’t. My father was too controlling, too protective, my whole life. He tried to keep me out of everything and I still knew a little, heard a lot. And I do love my dad. He was doing what he thought was best. Shannon is young; she’ll understand better someday.”
This shocks me. I don’t know why, but it’s shocking to hear her say she loves her father. I guess it shouldn’t, not really. He is a good man—as good as anyone in our world can be. He must be worried sick and here I am trying to make a power play using his only daughter. Fuck, I really am a piece of shit.
“Tanner,” I say. “I need to send you back to your father.”
“No,” she says.
“What do you think there is for you here?” I ask, sitting up, forward, staring her down. She doesn’t flinch. “What the hell would want to make you stay in a place where you were brought against your will, where you were hurt and raped? It’s senseless. What is your ideal endgame, here?”
“You,” she says. “I just want to be with you.”
“But what if that isn’t what I want?”
She doesn’t say anything to this. She turns away from my gaze, bites her lip. I see her swallow like she’s trying not to cry. I know she sees through this. I should just be honest. But I have a dark feeling. Something is coming to a head and I don’t want her in the middle of it.
“Tanner, this isn’t going to work,” I say. “We come from two different worlds.”
“Not that different,” she says.
“So stubborn,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Look, I like you. I do, and I’ll admit it. Despite my best efforts, I like having you around. But the truth is, there’s mutiny happening here, and a war brewing with your father’s club. And I have a vice president who is both an addict and a psycho, and that is a worst-case combo. I’ve got to end this, clean house. It’s going to get ugly.”
“What will you do about him?” she asks. “About Spike?”
“I’ll probably have to kill him,” I say simply. Maybe this will scare her away.
“Maybe he’ll manage to get himself killed,” she says.
I think on this for a moment. “I’m not … I’m not the kind of guy who wishes people dead,” I say. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I do value human life.”
“I know,” she says simply.
“That’s why you can’t be here,” I say. “Go to your dad. Be safe with him. Move on with someone better suited for you. Go to college. Do something besides … this.”
“Besides be with someone I’ve come to care about?” she asks, her words a knife.
“Yeah. I guess so. We can’t always get what we want.”
Chapter Ten
Tanner
Griz orders pizza from the kitchen and we eat it quietly in the bedroom while watching some explosive dude movie. I fall sleep before it’s over.
When I wake up, I’m curled up next to him. My head on his chest, his arm around my shoulder, my hand on his stomach. It’s such a comfortable place to be, so natural. It makes me feel butterflies in my stomach.
He wakes up soon after, seeming as surprised as I am that we found each other in the night, connected in this way. He stays like this for a long while, but finally gets up with a heavy sigh, heading to the bathroom. I follow him and we do normal morning things. Brush our teeth. Wash our faces.
As we wander out into the bedroom, the chemistry between us is totally charged. We never did find any clothing after our long talk. It’s odd to feel totally comfortable in front of someone like this.
“I’m going to have Dex take you home today,” he says. “I can trust him not to open his mouth. He’ll slip you out of here and deliver you close to your father’s club headquarters. You can try and do damage control before this gets further out of control.”
“I don’t want to go back,” I say. “I told you. If I go, he’ll have me married to Kit by next Tuesday.”
“That’s not my problem,” I say. “My problem is whether I can trust you to do what I’m asking. You could easily blab about our problems here and make us look weak. It makes me nervous, but I think it’s the best shot we’ve got to ending this without more bloodshed.”
“Is this really about not trusting me?” I ask.
He turns away, rubs his beard, turns back to look at me. His stare is so penetrating that I feel it in every inch of my skin. I can’t believe it doesn’t make people explode or something.
“I feel … possessive of you. I don’t want to give you back.”
I’m shocked speechless.
“I need you to know that I feel … something. It’s so hard for me. When Giselle died … I thought I’d never feel that again. The energy. And I do, which sucks, because it’s the last thing I want or need in my life right now. And because here is not the right place for you. I can’t live every day worried about you, worried for your safety. I have to let you go so you will be safe, even if it means putting you back under your father’s thumb. I’m sorry for it, but it’s for the best.”
I have two choices. Cry or kiss him. So I choose the latter, stepping forward, standing on my tiptoes, putting my hands on his bearded cheeks, and putting my mouth on his. He takes no time responding, parting his lips, welcoming my tongue.
He picks me up and walks me to the bed, where we kiss sweetly, our bodies connected from mouth to toes. At some point, I make room for him to touch me, to move his mouth down to my breasts. He works his magic, the feel of his tongue and teeth on my nipples enough to send a charge to my core, and when his fingers graze my already-wet pussy lips, I nearly come right then and there.
How is it that this man can make me feel like this? Like every part of my body is made to be with him? I can’t get enough of him touching me, kissing me. I want him deeper inside me, so I spread my legs wide, encouraging his fingers inside.
“This is what you do to me,” I whisper against his neck as his fingers work in and out. “This is real.”
The buildup is almost as good as the payoff. I can feel myself on the edge, the abyss looking so tantalizing. I just need to let myself fall, but I want him to fall along with me.
Griz, gorgeous specimen of man, enters me, his cock filling me so fully, so perfectly. His movements are fluid and soft, as his mouth finds mine once again. If I ever had a dream of what lovemaking was, this would be it. It’s soft and quiet and meaningful and passionate.
“Let it go, baby,” he whispers. “Let me feel you come for me.”
“Come along with me,” I say, kissing him.
He picks up the pace and meets my gaze. We stay locked on each other as he moves, my hips rising to meet every thrust. As I begin to tighten around him, my vision goes fuzzy. When he comes, he says my name and it feels worshipful. His eyes are open, his face hungry and determined. I take a picture of this with my mind. This masculine, muscular body, the way his hair is sexy and messy. His full mout
h and blue eyes. That wondrous dark tattoo on his arm.
God, I’d give anything to stay here, right here, forever.
# # #
Griz
As Tanner pulls on jeans and a T-shirt, I just sit and watch. It’s like my future flashes before my eyes and I can imagine her, sleepy in the morning, fumbling for coffee, pulling on whatever she can find. I can see her making lunch for my daughter, putting her on the school bus. All of these little, normal interactions seemed so far out of reach when I lost Giselle. And here, I can see them again, if only circumstances were different.
She’s already said what she needs to say. She doesn’t agree with this decision, but it’s not her call to make. She wasn’t supposed to be in my world. If not for stupid Spike, I wouldn’t have known she existed. She’s idealistic, of course, and tells me we’d have found each other anyway. Maybe she’s right, but it’s doesn’t matter. This is for the best.
