“Pretty little thing you got back there. Looks like she don’t belong out here though,” he grunts.
A rumble comes up through Free’s chest and he moves quickly. My eyes lift, and I gasp. Free has a gun pointed at the man’s forehead.
“What’s that fuckin’ mean?” he demands.
The clerk grins, his cocky smirk taking over his face and turning evil. “I’ve seen those girls come through here. I know who they belong to and I know once they pass on through they never come back out. Curious as fuck as to where they take them all. All them young things, I’m sure they’re fun,” he chuckles.
He doesn’t even care that there’s a gun pointed to his forehead. His eyes are on me as he licks his lips. I scoot behind Free a little more, pressing my cheek to the center of his back and pinch my eyes closed tightly.
I hear the gun blast, then two more shots go off. “Cameras,” Free grumbles. “C’mon, Kitten,” he murmurs.
Staying glued to his back, I follow him out the door. I don’t feel like I take a breath until we’re in his pickup truck.
“Here,” he growls, shoving something at me. It’s a drink. I wrap my hand around it and bring it close to me, looking down I gasp. It’s a Coke flavored Icee. I lift my gaze up to him and he winks. “Kitten, you want something. You fucking ask me for it, and it’s yours, sweet thing.”
“Free,” I breathe.
He shakes his head. “That guy was fucking disgusting. I shouldn’t have killed him. I wasn’t going to have him lookin’ at you like that or talkin’ about you like that. Also.” He clears his throat. “He knew too fucking much.”
I nod. His reasons are understandable. I’ve seen a lot of death in my life, and the fact that he’s explained his reasons for killing this man, it makes me see him differently from every other man I’ve known. He also didn’t kill some innocent girl, like the men I’ve known. I’m probably screwed up in the head, especially since hearing his death didn’t faze me at all, but this is the life I was given, the cards I was dealt.
Reaching out, I wrap my hand around his forearm and give it a squeeze. “I understand. Thank you,” I say.
I suck on the straw and moan as the liquid hits my tongue, then the Coke burns down my throat. It feels like it’s been a lifetime since I’ve had anything like this. Closing my eyes, I thoroughly enjoy my drink. Free growls next to me and my eyes pop open as I turn my head to look over at him.
“Keep the sex noises down, Kitten, or we’ll have to pull over and I’m sure you don’t want me fuckin’ you on the side of the road, Whitley,” he mutters.
My eyes round and my brows shoot to the sky at his words. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should tell him that I’m a virgin. Obviously, he thinks we’re going to be having sex, and soon. Maybe he isn’t the protecting savior I thought he was. Although he doesn’t seem like the evil men I’ve been surrounded by the last three years, either.
My breathing starts to come out in pants as my eyes travel down the length of him, to his crotch and his thick thighs. I press my own legs together, wondering why my center aches. My eyes slowly drag back up and land on his fingers which are loosely wrapped around the steering wheel. My mind drifts to images of his big hands, and how they would feel on my body.
“Whitley,” he rasps.
My head snaps forward and I focus on the windshield. I try to calm myself down. I try to think of something other than his hands on me, or what he looks like beneath his clothes. I try not to think about the way my breasts and center ache and I don’t know why. I try not to freaking think at all.
FREE
Sitting next to her is torture—downright fucking torture. The dress she wears is shit, but I know there’s a luscious curvy body beneath it. When I carried her out of that hellhole, I felt it. She’s not a small woman, but everything is exactly where it needs to be, and my cock aches at the thought of peeling her shitty dress off and unveiling that sweet body for my eyes only.
The clubhouse comes into view and I grip the steering wheel tighter. I wish I had my own place to take her to, but my room here will have to be enough. Her eyes are wide as she takes in the clubhouse and the parking lot.
I wonder what she’s thinking, but I don’t ask her. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing right now. I should take her to Calgary where the other men are dropping off the women and children at battered women’s shelters. I can’t do that, for whatever reason I couldn’t just let her be carted off.
There’s something about her.
She’s mine and I plan on fucking keeping her.
“Is this your house?” she asks innocently, looking around.
I curse to myself. I shouldn’t have brought her here. Her big amber eyes meet mine and I lower my gaze before I lift it back up to meet hers.
“This is the clubhouse,” I grunt.
She nods, confusion laced in her features. “But you live here.”
Lifting my chin. “Yeah, and so do other brothers,” I announce.
She clenches her fists and my eyes flick down, my jaw clenching at the sight of her nails digging into her palm. I don’t know what that means, but it looks like she does it often and it pisses me off.
“I know how to be invisible,” she shrugs, opening the truck door. “Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it, but you won’t even know I’m there.”
I don’t tell her that her words are bullshit. She wouldn’t know how to be invisible if she tried. She’s too fuckin’ beautiful, her body too goddamn sexy, and her eyes way too innocent to be invisible.
No, she makes a man want to corrupt her. I plan on being that man. I plan on corrupting every single inch of her sweet body.
She stands next to the passenger door, waiting for me. Sliding out of the truck, I jog over to her side. Placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her toward the clubhouse. Her steps are slow, and I look back behind me.
“Problem?” I ask.
She shakes her head, looking down at her feet. “I’m just taking my place,” she mumbles.
Stopping in my tracks, I turn around to face her, my hand falling from her back to wrap around her hip. My other hand wraps around the back of her neck and I gently squeeze. She lifts her head and looks up into my eyes.
“Your place?” I softly demand.
She nods. “A woman’s place is always at least two steps behind a man,” she explains.
I let out a low whistle. They really fucked her head up at that compound, not that I expected anything less. “Forget all that shit you learned at that fucked up place,” I growl.
Her eyes round and her mouth forms an O shape. I want nothing more than to push my cock past those pretty little lips. Lowering my head so that my lips are almost touching hers, I breathe, “They brainwashed you, Kitten. Your place is at your man’s side,” I inform her.
“Is that what you are?” she asks, her question bold and yet still so goddamn innocent.
I find I like her forwardness, and I want more of it. Smirking, I brush my lips across her own, chuckling when her breath hitches. I lick my lips, tasting her sweetness on them, holding back my moan. I want more of her, and I plan on taking it—soon.
“Not yet, Kitten. You’ll know it when I am. You’ll feel it down to your soul.”
Without waiting for her response, I turn away from her. I wrap my hand around hers and tug her against my side, not allowing her to walk behind me, at all. I expect guilt to fill me, especially since I talked about being her man, but it doesn’t. I frown. Usually just looking at a woman makes the guilt surface.
Shaking my head, I decide not to think about it right now. I have Whitley next to me, and I need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with her, now.
The club is empty, save for DD and Jizzy walking around wearing nothing but bras and panties. Whitley’s fingers tighten around my hand at the sight and I wonder what she thinks of them. DD’s eyes light up when she sees me, but I watch as they narrow once she realizes there’s a woman at my sid
e.
“What the hell is this?” she giggles. “You bring home a lost girl to cook and clean for us, Free?” she purrs, making her way toward us.
I shake my head. “She’s none of your concern, DD. Go on now, I’ll see you later,” I murmur.
DD turns and practically skips away, but not before she flips around one last time, and gives me a coy smile followed with a wink.
Tugging on Whitley’s hand, I take her to my room. Opening the door, I pull her inside before I lock us in. She doesn’t face me. She’s busy scanning my room and I cringe at what she must think. I didn’t know I would be bringing a woman back here, it’s a fucking mess. I scrub my hand over my face trying to think about the last time the sheets were changed, and I cringe again.
CHAPTER THREE
WHITLEY
The smell hits me first. This place is disgusting. I’m not even sure what color the flooring is, because there is so much stuff littering the ground. The bed is a mess, and judging by the unnatural color of his sheets, I would assume he hasn’t changed them in months, possibly years. His closet has piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and there are empty food wrappers and cartons, along with beer and hard liquor bottles—everywhere.
“I’m not really much of a housekeeper,” he mutters.
Without turning around, I snort. “Much?” I ask.
He moves behind me, I can feel his chest against my back before his hands wrap around my waist. His breath is against my neck, warm and delicious as it hits my skin. “I don’t clean, Kitten. That shit’s obvious. I fuck, I drink, and if you’re good, I’ll eat your sweet little cunt. That’s about all I’m good for, Whitley. I’ll provide for you too, whatever you need, it’s yours,” he states.
My nails dig into my palm, causing slight pain, as I take in a deep breath before I exhale. “I’ve never. I’m…”
I shake my head, trying to come up with the words to tell him that I’m a virgin. I lived on a compound that revolved around sex, but not a single man even attempted to touch me, and I was thankful for it, I still am. I can only imagine the nightmare those men inflicted on their women. I watched as some even died involving sex. I never wanted that to be me.
“You’re a virgin,” he mutters, his lips skimming my neck.
I nod, my voice escaping me. He groans, and I feel something unmistakably hard pressing against my back. My face heats, he likes the fact that I’m untouched, it turns him on, and I bite the corner of my lip because I like that I affect him.
“Shit,” he curses. “I should have taken you to the battered women’s shelter,” he announces before his lips leave me and I feel him back away.
I turn around just as his door slams closed and I’m left alone in his filthy room. I’m shocked still by his quick turnabout, his mood shifted within seconds and I’m left standing in surprise by what’s just happened.
Blinking back tears, I clench my fists, again. I shake my head, refusing to cry. This is just like being in Zachary’s home. I need to make myself useful, and invisible, then they’ll all leave me alone. I don’t know why Free brought me here, or why he didn’t take me with the rest of the women to the shelter, but it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is my courage and strength to survive.
Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out, then go about straightening up the disgusting room. If I’m going to be staying here, it’s going to be clean. I look around, trying to figure out where to start, but I need supplies. Not only do I need things to clean with, but I also need a washing machine, dryer, and trash bags.
Walking over to the door, I wrap my hand around the knob and gently twist, opening it to the hallway. It’s empty, so I quietly walk in the direction we came, in search of a kitchen, or a supply closet of some kind.
Doing what I do best, I hug the walls and attempt to stay completely invisible. Walking into the bar area, I’m not surprised to see Free bellied up to the bar top. I can see his profile, his hand wrapped around a bottle, and a frown on his face.
I skirt into the kitchen, and rifle around until I find a box of trash bags, some all-purpose cleaner, and rags. I don’t know if it will get the job done, but it’s all I have right now. Making my way back out of the kitchen and into the bar, I glance over at Free again. My feet stop moving and my heart races at the sight in front of me.
Within only minutes he’s gone from being completely alone to having that woman who paraded practically naked in front of us, perched on his lap. I watch in horror as he lifts his hand and wraps it around her breast, squeezing as his mouth is pressed against the side of her neck. That same mouth was on my neck just moments ago, I feel disgusting and disgusted all at the same time.
Hurrying back toward the bedroom, I shut myself inside, and try to put the scene I’ve just witnessed out of my mind.
I shouldn’t care.
It shouldn’t matter.
I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. He’s just some guy who took me out of the compound. I’m nothing special to him, I’m nothing special to anyone. Even if I did feel that way for a split second, it’s good that the illusion is now over.
Trying to ignore the way my heart is racing and breaking. I fill the bags with trash, one, then two and finally three. Placing them next to the door, I try to calm my still racing heart, but it doesn’t work.
I shouldn’t be as affected as I am, and I really should not care. I frown, working on cleaning all of the surfaces with the rag and cleaner. I’m going to have to ask someone about washing machines, soon, especially if I’m going to sleep tonight. I’m afraid to go snooping around this place anymore, unsure of what I might find behind a closed door. I need to keep myself busy right now though, and my mind off of him.
“The fuck are you doing?” Free’s voice growls.
I jump, not realizing that he’s come into the room. Turning around, the cleaner and rag in my hand, I look down at them, then back up to him.
“Cleaning,” I state.
He frowns, his eyes looking at the cleaner before his gaze meets mine. “Why the fuck are you doing that? Could have called one of the whores in here to take care of it for you,” he mutters.
I flinch at the word, whore. “I don’t mind, and it needs it. I just… where are the washer and dryer?”
“You ain’t doin’ my laundry,” he grumbles.
Setting the cleaner and rag down on a flipped over crate that he’s been using as a nightstand, I hesitantly take a few steps toward him. “Your sheets need washing, as do your clothes. I’m used to it, Free. It’s okay,” I shrug.
He reaches out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck before he hauls me against his chest. I try to pull away, not wanting the same hands that touched that woman on me. Not wanting to be pressed against his body that assuredly was pressed against her naked one moments ago.
“Stop, Whitley. Don’t struggle,” he demands. My body freezes. My eyes narrow as I look up at him. “You pissed about something?”
I turn my head to the side. I don’t want to look at him. I feel his nose slide up my jawline, then his lips are at my ears. “Kitten, I saw you. I didn’t fuck DD. Not when my pretty little kitty is up here all alone,” he whispers.
My entire body breaks out into goosebumps, and my center aches at his words. I can’t fight it, nor deny the effect he has on me.
His fingers dance up my arm until they slide through my hair and gently grip me tightly. He tugs my head back, his nose skimming my jawline again, then my neck, until his lips finally touch the top of my collarbone. His tongue tastes me, and I swear my thighs tremble.
“I shouldn’t want you. If you knew the first thing about me, you’d fight me off right here and now,” he mumbles against my neck as his lips travel back up. His other hand leaves my neck and I feel his hand wrap around my hip as his fingers squeeze. “I ain’t tellin’ you all that shit though, Whitley,” he admits.
“Why?” I breathe.
He chuckles, his breath fanning my skin. “Kitten, if you knew, you’
d run from me, and I’m keeping you,” he mutters.
Turning my head back to face him, I look into his dark eyes. I can’t decipher his look, but I know that there is heat behind his gaze. Reaching up, I touch his bronzed neck, wrapping my fingers around the side, feeling his warmth.
“I don’t know the rules here. I don’t know anything about your group, your club, and what is acceptable,” I admit.
He nods, his eyes closing slightly, looking down at me through his lashes. “Not a lot of rules, Whitley. The men are in charge, the Old Ladies are strong. The whores are there for one purpose and one purpose only. You don’t ask questions, because even if you did, you wouldn’t get answers. Club business, is just that, club business. Other than that, anything goes, Kitten.”
I frown, thinking that those rules sound an awful lot like the ones at the compound. Whore replaces Breeder, or maybe cook, but the job is the same. Using a woman for physical pleasure.
“Is that what I’m going to be, a whore for your club? Is that why you brought me here?” I ask.
Free’s eyes narrow, and I didn’t think it was possible, but they actually darken as he looks down at me. “You want every man in this place to have a turn between your legs, Whitley?” he growls, his grip tightening in my hair and on my hip.
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. I don’t want that, not even in the slightest, but the way he was talking… I’m not sure what my role is here. He grunts, his eyes searching mine.
“You’re here because you’re mine. I couldn’t leave you there. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
His words are clear, and I clench my fists, digging my nails into my hand. I’m here to be his whore. I understand it now. Just like the cooks were Zachary’s personal whores, I’m to be Free’s. The thought should bother me, it should disgust me, but it doesn’t. I know how men in power are and judging by the vice president label on his vest, Free holds power in this club of his.
“Okay,” I say, looking directly into his eyes.
Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3) Page 3
