by Chiah Wilder
“Yes, Sir. You are kind.” She scampered away to fix him his drink. She knew he loved her. He reminded her all the time of how much she meant to him, and how important she was to him. He’d told her everything he did was because he loved her. He controlled almost everything in her life: what she did and didn’t wear, what she ate, how many times she exercised, what time she went to bed, when she could go out with her friends—the list went on and on. She really didn’t mind the control; it helped rein in all her distractions and gave her meaningless life some purpose. Before Frederick had come into her life, she had made a mess of it, but he’d taken control and organized it for her.
That night, he let her sit at the table and eat with him. Usually he liked her at the table with him, but sometimes if he was in a foul mood, or didn’t care to see her, she’d eat alone in the kitchen while he took his meal in the dining room.
He brought his glass of red wine to his lips and sipped it. “What did you think of our bodyguards last night?”
Her insides froze. “I didn’t really notice them.” Another lie. I’m getting good at this.
“They were outlaw bikers, and they kill without batting an eye. They live in their own world and have their own rules. They are violent brutes.” She cringed but then remembered how soft Roche’s lips had been on hers when they were young and in love. “They scare most people, even the bad guys.” He laughed and slathered sour cream on his baked potato. “Is your salad tasty, pet?”
She nodded as she chewed slowly.
“I’m going to have them again when I have the Peak Five meeting at the house. With all the money that’s going to be there, I can’t take any chances.”
Please let Roche come again. Wait, what am I saying? I can’t risk Frederick finding out that I know him. And I don’t want him to see me like this. A flush of shame filled her when she replayed how Frederick had humiliated her in front of the other guests, and Roche. I can’t let him see how far I’ve fallen.
“You’re not with me tonight. I don’t like that. I demand one hundred percent of your attention. What’s been on your mind this evening?”
“I was just thinking about home. I don’t do it very often, but whenever fall is in the air, I get a hankering for Cajun-style jambalaya and crawfish. Maybe I’ll make some jambalaya next week. Would you like me to?”
He watched her intently. “If you like.”
“Excellent.” She smiled sweetly, her insides playing a game of handball against her stomach.
“Excellent, what?” he asked firmly.
“Excellent, Sir.”
After she cleaned all the dishes, she joined him in the family room. She began to kneel when he patted the space next to him on the couch. “Sit next to me, pet.”
She sank down on the couch and soon he began to touch her, softly at first but then harder, making her wince as pain mixed with pleasure. “You please me very much, little one,” he murmured. “Turn over and go on your knees. Remember, spread wide. I want to see your ass and pussy.” She turned over and propped herself on her knees, her back arched. “Fucking beautiful,” he rasped.
She heard him unzip his pants, and she moaned when he touched her sore ass, making him dig his nails into her tender flesh. “You want me to ass-fuck you?”
“Yes, Sir.” The truth was she didn’t want him anywhere near her ass right then, but she wanted to please him and have it over with, so she’d lied to him again. If she told him the truth, he would question her for hours until she admitted that since she’d seen Roche, the old Clotille had awakened and she wanted her life back.
Frederick spread lubricant over her crack, making sure she was good and wet. Without warning, he plunged into her hard and fast. As he jackhammered her, she buried her cries in the couch’s cushion.
She also guarded the image in her mind of Roche’s ripped body covering her as he made love to her.
Chapter Four
One month later
“Where do you want us to put the couch?” Rock asked Throttle as he and Bones walked into the family room, each of them holding one end of it.
“Kimber wants it in front of the fireplace,” he said as he cleared boxes out of the way.
They put the couch down and Rock wiped his brow. “You got any beer?”
Throttle nodded, went into the kitchen, and came back with a six-pack. “Let’s take a break.”
Bones and Rock sank onto the couch and popped open their cans. Rock looked around at the spacious family room, stone fireplace, and cathedral ceilings. “You got a real nice place here. Beats your room at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah. I never thought I’d like living away from you guys, but I have to admit this is way better.”
“Having your woman with you helps a lot,” Bones said as he brought his can to his lips.
“You good with just one woman?” Rock asked.
Throttle spread his hands out on his jean-clad thighs. “Totally. It’s so fuckin’ awesome to have a deep connection with a woman. I never really had that with Mariah, and I’d given up on finding it. Then Kimber crashed into my life. We still bicker like hell, but we have a great time making up.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m good with club pussy. Being tied down to one woman isn’t my style. I like it easy. That’s why I never go out with citizens. The club women and the hoodrats know the score. Hell, they don’t want to be tied down either, and it suits me just fine.” Rock popped open another beer.
“I’m with Rock on this one. I had a wife years ago who turned out to be nothing but a tramp.” A darkness crossed Bones’s face. “Bad things happened. I’m not ever gonna let another bitch do that to me again.”
“Yeah. My ex did a number on me too, but when someone right comes in your life, all the past shit doesn’t matter anymore. It just hits you head-on like a fuckin’ train at top speed.” Throttle grinned and shook his head. “I still can’t believe how great this all is.”
“My ex did me wrong when I was laid up in the pen. Fuckin’ cunt.” Bones crushed his can with his hand. “Your woman did the same shit to you, right?” Bones looked at Rock.
Clotille didn’t stand by me. She fuckin’ up and married Luc, leaving me with nothing but the memory of her soft body and tight pussy. Venom burned through his veins as he nodded.
“See? You can’t trust ‘em. When life’s good they’re there, but when it goes to shit, they split with the first cock that comes their way. Fuck.” Bones lit up a joint.
“So we gonna get back to work?” Rock stood up. He didn’t want to bring the memories from his past back. For the past month, he’d done a good job in keeping them away.
The other two bikers jumped up and the men headed out to the rented truck to bring in some more boxes and furniture.
A couple hours later, Rock and Bones tilted their heads at Throttle as they made their way to their Harleys.
“You wanna go to the Charred House and grab some steaks and cold beer?” Rock asked Bones once they reached the bikes.
“In Aspen?”
“Yep.”
“Sure. Let’s head back to the clubhouse so we can clean up before we go.”
Rock nodded, swinging his leg over his bike. In a matter of seconds his iron machine roared to life. He and Bones pulled away from the curb and headed back to the club.
When Rock and Bones got back to the clubhouse, Wheelie and Rags wanted to join them on the ride and dinner. The bikers never passed up an opportunity to ride, and a good steak and beer were a bonus, so an hour later the four bikers twisted and turned around the back mountain roads leading to Aspen.
They pulled in front of Charred House and stretched their legs. Rock took off his gloves and placed his sunglasses in his saddlebags. “Damn, I’m starved,” he said as he shook out a kink in his leg.
The four men walked into the restaurant, Rock blinking as his eyes adjusted to the low light. The steakhouse boasted the finest steaks in the western Rocky Mountain region, and the aroma curling up from the grills
was intoxicating. The hostess sat the men at a table near a picture window showcasing the peaks of Maroon Bells.
After placing their order for porterhouse steaks and mashed potatoes, the brothers kicked back, drank their beer, and shared riding stories. For the amount of screwing the motorcycle club did, most people would think that the main topic among the brothers was fucking, but it wasn’t. The conversations that made them excited were always about Harleys: riding them, customizing them, and buying them. The ride was what they lived for—and, many times, died for. It was just that simple.
As Rock leaned back in his chair, he scanned the restaurant, trying to spot their pretty waitress so he could order another drink. That’s when he saw her. Actually, he saw Frederick first, but the woman with the lush hair cascading a little past her shoulders sat across from her partner, her back to Rock. But he knew it was her; he could sense her, feel her, and almost hear her soft voice. His groin pulled and he caught his breath. He had to see her and catch a whiff of her vanilla-scented body.
Frederick’s mouth kept moving and every few minutes, he’d throw his head back and laugh. Rock saw him place his hand over hers, and a sudden urge to see her consumed the biker.
He pushed his chair back. “I’ll be right back. If the waitress comes over, order me another Coors.” He walked toward Frederick and the woman who’d been invading his thoughts since he’d first seen her a month before.
When he approached the table, Frederick acted like he didn’t know who he was, which pissed Rock off to no end. If it had not been for the woman who intrigued him, he never would’ve acknowledged the rich asshole.
“Mr. Blair, correct?”
Frederick’s lips curled down in disgust as he nodded. The woman shifted to the side and bowed her head, her hair falling in front of her face. Fuck! What the hell is up with her? Why does she keep hiding her goddamned face? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get a glimpse of her. He squished his brows together and gave Frederick a perplexed look.
Frederick pressed his thin lips together. “My pet is very shy. What can I do for you?”
Rock’s body tensed and his expression grew tight. It took all he had to stop himself from smashing his fist into the arrogant sonofabitch’s face. “Nothing. I was just passing by.”
“And you can continue passing by.” Frederick turned from him, acting as though he weren’t there.
The woman moved slightly in her chair, and Rock was rewarded with the seductive fragrance of amber, creamy vanilla, and sandalwood. As the delicate thread of her perfume wound around him, it reminded him of the glowing embers of a campfire under an inky deep blue sky studded with brilliant stars. Now that makes putting up with this shithead worth it. I wish I could see your face, darling.
He turned around and went back to his table. When he scooted his chair in, he caught a quick glimpse of the woman as she turned to look at him. It was so fast that he thought he may have imagined it, but then he spotted Frederick’s face, dark with disapproval as he clutched her hand… tightly. Rock noticed she squirmed in her chair. When her partner released her hand, her shoulders slumped a bit.
All through dinner, Rock watched her, half listening to what his buddies were saying. A few times, Frederick leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Rock heard her laugh and it resonated deep inside him like a lost echo in a cave.
The waitress set down another beer for him. “Compliments of the redhead.” She pointed to a table a little past Frederick’s; three women in their late twenties waved, the redhead winking at him.
Rock held up his beer and jerked his chin, his eyes roving back to Frederick and the woman he was with. It was at that moment that he saw her stand up and head toward the restrooms. He waited a few seconds and then rose from the table, ambling past Frederick’s table, through the bar, and over to the bathrooms. He leaned against the wall as he waited for her to come out. A couple minutes later, she exited the bathroom and he pushed in front of her, “accidentally” running into her.
She glanced at him for a second, then quickly bowed her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she tried to get around him. He blocked her way. “Can you please let me pass?”
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“I can’t. Please don’t talk to me.” Panic laced her voice.
“You intrigue me, sweet lady.” He heard her suck in her breath. “Ever since I saw you, I’ve had the feeling you’re in something you want to get out of.”
“That’s not true. I’m sorry if I made that impression on you.” She brushed against him, her head still bowed.
He grabbed her hand, her moan as they touched skin-to-skin making his insides burn.
“I’m not asking for an apology from you.”
“What are you asking for?” she whispered.
“To see your face. Why do you keep hiding it?” He felt her hand stiffen before she pulled it away.
“I have to go. Please.” She squeezed his hand then slipped it away from it.
“I worry about you.” He brushed his finger against hers; he needed to touch her again.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. Forget about me. I’ve stayed much too long. Fredrick will be displeased. Please.”
“Do you ever think about me?”
She looked up at him through the tendrils that fell over her face like a veil, then turned away from him. “Oh yes… so much,” she whispered. “I have to go. Please.”
“That’s all I wanted to know.” He moved aside and she walked away from him, her enticing scent lingering behind her. He inhaled and it coursed through him, stirring something deep inside: a tenderness he’d buried a long time ago. He stepped out of the corridor and watched her go to her table, her curvy hips moving provocatively in her tight black dress. As she pulled out her chair, he noticed the way Frederick frowned, his mouth a jagged line. The minute she sat down, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, then said something in her ear. Her back stiffened, and he saw Fredrick pull her hand under the table, the maroon tablecloth covering what he was doing.
Something doesn’t seem right. Damn, why do you give a shit? So she said she thinks of you. Big fuckin’ deal. She’s the jerk’s woman. Move on. Forget about her.
But he couldn’t forget her. She’d already pulled him in. There was something about her that seemed familiar yet unfamiliar to him all at the same time. This odd, fragile woman summoned memories that had been hidden under the weight of many years and experiences. This woman, whose name he didn’t know and face he hadn’t seen, threatened to detonate those memories that he had worked so hard to forget.
“Your friends told me you’d be here.” A flirty voice grounded him.
He turned to his side and saw the redhead who’d bought him the drink. Shaking his head as if to rid himself of the spell the strange woman had cast on him, he laughed. “I was going to come over and thank you properly. You live in Aspen?”
She nodded and moved in close to him, pretending there wasn’t enough room for them to talk. He knew she wanted him to feel her big tits against his chest and smell her overpowering musk perfume. If only she smelled like my mysterious lady. Fuck, you’re acting lame. This one’s a hot one. Dump the fucked-up woman who gets off on men like Fredrick and go with the sure thing. “You’re pretty cute.” He smiled down at her and she giggled. “Why don’t you and your friends join our table? How many friends you got with you?”
“Two. Is that a problem?”
“Not for me.” He laughed and led her to his table, his arm tight around her shoulders. He strutted past Frederick’s table, catching his partner’s gaze on him for a brief second before she looked away. The woman who was tucked under his arm motioned to her friends to come to the bikers’ table. The two women scrambled out of their booth and joined the four men.
“What’s your name, darling?” Rock asked as he motioned the waitress over.
“Zoe.” She giggled and snuggled closer to him.
The waitress brought anothe
r round of drinks and the women and men talked, mostly flirting with each other. The bikers knew they were in for a good time by the way the women “oohed” and “ahhed” over their biceps, tats, and patches. Zoe looked especially pleased that the Sergeant-At-Arms had taken an interest in her. And even though Rock laughed, drank, and rubbed his hand on Zoe’s thigh, his gaze kept going over to the table a few rows from his. A few times the strange woman would tilt her head as if trying to hear his conversation with Zoe, and he sensed she wasn’t too happy about the redhead and her friends joining his table. And for reasons he couldn’t articulate, he was happy she didn’t like seeing him with the sexy redhead.
When Frederick paid the bill and stood up, helping his companion to her feet, Rock’s heart dropped. He liked being in the same room as her. An emptiness gnawed at him when the couple left.
“These sexy ladies have invited us to their house for some fun. You down for that?” Bones nudged Rock’s shoulder.
“What? Uh… yeah. Why not?” And why the fuck not? I’m not gonna sit around thinking about her.
The bikers paid the bill and walked out with the women into the cool night air. Rags turned to the group. “Sorry, but I can’t stay. Throttle and I have an early morning landscaping job. I gotta get back.”
“Me too,” Rock said. Did I just say that? What the fuck? The redhead bit her lip, a frown crossing her brow. “Sorry, darling. It’s an hour drive back, and I promised my buddy I’d open his bike shop for him in the morning.”
“You can come over for just a half hour or so. I promise I’ll make you glad you did.”
As his eyes roamed over her small frame, landing on her blue eyes, he wasn’t feeling it. He could get pussy anytime at the club and at parties; he didn’t like taking up with a citizen. Although, she lived far enough away that it probably wouldn’t be a problem.
Sensing his hesitation, she drew closer to him, grabbing his hand and placing it on her tit. “You like that?” she breathed against his ear.
“I like it, but I still gotta go. Give me your number and I’ll call you next time I’m up here.” He knew he wouldn’t, but it always made the citizens feel better when he asked for their numbers. Club whores are so much easier.
