Property of Drex (Book 1) (Death Chasers MC Series)

by C. M. Owens

  EVE

  For a solid week, I’ve slept on the uncomfortable couch. I hate it. I’m grateful, but Drex’s bed is so soft and inviting. I should be thankful that he doesn’t expect me to sleep in there with him, but I’m not.

  This place… It’s pretty damn scary. More men have been here this week. Lots and lots of tattooed, scruffy, terrifying, wild-eyed, and gravelly-spoken men.

  I haven’t slept better than shit since the first night when I was kept safe in Drex’s arms. Every little sound wakes me up now, and shadows of the night look like figures coming to do things that will scar me for life.

  I’m paranoid and freaked out every night, because he doesn’t lock his door. Apparently that’s him saying he doesn’t trust his guys if he locks his door on them. I don’t trust his guys.

  Drex has told everyone I’m off limits, but that doesn’t stop them from leering or saying things that make my stomach roil. It’s only the guys who don’t stay here much. They’ve been bringing in more and more of them, and now this place is packed.

  I don’t know what’s going on, but I know a lawyer showed up and talked to the feds. They haven’t banged on the door or harassed Drex anymore.

  He still hasn’t kissed me, but he has sure as hell used my body. The madness hasn’t caught up with me. Yet. My mind is still finding ways to cope, and for at least a week, I’ve managed to avoid the impending nervous breakdown.

  Soft lips press to the back of my neck, and I remain still on the bed with a book under me—courtesy of Sarah. “What’re you reading?” Drex asks, running his hand up under the short denim skirt I have on.

  “Smut,” I lie, refusing to tell him I’m reading about Motorcycle clubs and the orthodox rules they usually follow. Oh, and as it turns out, human trafficking is a real thing, but it doesn’t look like the Death Dealers partake in it. My situation also don’t fall under the guidelines of human trafficking. “Thought I’d get some ideas on how to impress you.”

  He releases a sincere laugh that makes me smile against all odds. He’s nothing like I thought he’d be, and as twisted as it sounds, I actually enjoy being around him. He was… unexpected—is unexpected—in the best possible way. I don’t hate myself for what I’ve had to do because it makes it… okay? I’m not sure what word I’m looking for, but I’m glad I’m not miserable.

  “Well, I’m glad you want to impress me, but I prefer to be the one in control. So no reading necessary. Get ready. We’re going to the club. It’s Mack’s birthday, and he’s going to want a good time.”

  The way he says that gives me pause, and my whole body gets rigid. “Not with me?” I ask hopefully, feeling sick all of the sudden.

  “Fuck no,” he says quickly. “You’re mine. I’ve told you this. No one else is allowed to touch you. But there will be alcohol, drugs, and lots of other men from other clubs. You’ll have to stay close. Which means you might end up with a few lap dances from the girls coming to see me. Now go get ready.”

  Girls coming to see him… I really wish that didn’t piss me off. This is not a real relationship. I’m supposed to be dwelling in an endless vat of self-loathing misery instead of playing house. There’s no sane reason for me to feel jealous right now. But I can’t help it.

  Maybe I have Stockholm’s Syndrome.

  I don’t say anything as I go to grab a bra and a different shirt. Maybe I’ll make myself look good enough to keep him distracted. Or at least look good enough to force other guys to look at me—which will make Drex focus more attention on me. He’s pretty damn possessive when it comes to other guys around me.

  Yep. Crazy. I’m a certifiable lunatic.

  “We’ll be taking my bike, so no skirts or dresses.”

  “I’ve already got a dress planned out,” I lie, listening to him go quiet for a long minute.

  “A dress will blow up on the back of my bike, and I don’t want anyone seeing your ass. So no dress.”

  “I can tuck it under my legs. I want to wear a dress. This is the first time I’ve gotten to leave since I came here. I’d like to at least look decent.”

  I turn in time to see his eyes narrow and his jaw tense. I never argue about anything he says, so he’s probably caught off guard.

  “Why do you want to wear a dress so badly?” he asks, slowly coming toward me as I undo my skirt and drop it to the floor.

  “I just told you why. I’ve ridden on the back of a motorcycle while wearing a dress. I can handle it.”

  His grin only partially forms. “Ben doesn’t drive the way I do.”

  A small ruffle of excitement forms because I’m twisted and love the scary side of this jerk.

  “I’m sure I can handle the way you drive. So far I’ve managed,” I say very suggestively, and his grin only grows.

  “So you have.” His anger seems to dissipate as mischief settles in his eyes. I’m not sure I like that look. “Fine. Wear your dress. If anyone sees your ass, I’ll fuck you in front of the whole club to remind them who you belong to. Make sure you’re okay with public exhibitions if that dress is so damn important.”

  He turns and walks out, leaving that threat suspended in the air. I really don’t want to be screwed in front of an audience, so I opt to pull on a pair of shorts under the dress. I can take them off when we get there.

  After hurrying around to fix my hair and applying a touch of makeup, I head down the stairs to see Drex smirking at me. He tilts his head, acting as though he’s amused by the fact I went with the dress.

  His black shirt hugs him tightly, and despite the heat, he has on his Death Dealers cut that has Vice President embroidered under D. Caine. His dark jeans hang low, but they fit him perfectly, which in turn might elicit a small tremble from me.

  His almost-black hair is spiked up a little now—just the way I like it. And his blue eyes pop against all the dark accents. He’d be beautiful to the untrained eye, but I should know better. Should being the operative word, because I still find him almost irresistible even though he’s nothing but death’s promise to me.

  He watches me while I walk all the way to him, and I bite back a grin as he eyes the white dress that flares just slightly at the hips, fitting loose enough to hide the thin, white shorts I’m wearing without showing lines.

  It’s as though he can’t stop himself from reaching out and pulling me to him, and his hands run down my ass.

  “Shorts are on underneath,” I say as he slowly works the hem up.

  His right eyebrow cocks up and he raises the dress up to take a look for himself.

  “I’ll take them off when we get there,” I tell him quietly.

  He leans down to my ear just as several more people start joining us. “I may still fuck you in the club, because I really like the dress.”

  He runs his hands run over the tops of my shoulders, feeling the skin the strapless dress has left bare. I try not to shiver, but I fail, and his smirk only grows. His thumb grazes my lower lip, and he puts his mouth dangerously close to mine.

  “I’m starting to think you like me,” he murmurs, staring at my lips like he’s seconds away from kissing me and putting me out of my misery.

  I decide speaking is stupid. He could freak out if he finds out that I’m sick enough to like someone I should hate. He might also be one of those guys who doesn’t want to be liked, and he might get rid of me.

  “You ready?” Snake asks as Sarah sidles up next to him. His arm drops around her shoulders, and Drex nods.

  Drex’s hand slides down until he cups and squeezes my ass, and then he pulls out a helmet that is sure to ruin my hair. When he tosses a long leg of his over the bike, I can’t help but watch, entranced.

  He’s everything bad for me rolled into one hard-to-ignore body, presenting himself in the sexiest package the devil could create. I’m nothing but a weak girl falling for the man that could be my sealed fate.

  When he reaches out his hand for me, I take it and lift my leg. He mutters a curse toward Mack who is trying to look under my dress
when I throw my leg over. But the scruffy biker groans in disappointment when he realizes I’ve taken precautions.

  A jolt of adrenaline surges through me when the thunderous sounds fill the garage almost simultaneously. The loud beast vibrates between my legs, and the rumble resonates in my chest, almost tickling me with sensations. I tighten my grip on Drex as the large metal door to the outside slowly rises in front of us.

  The firm, deliciously defined lines of Drex’s abs rest beneath my hands and grow tighter when we start to move. I think I actually giggle in excitement. It’s hard to tell since all my sounds are being drowned out right now.

  The slow crawl out of the garage is brief, because the second we hit the street, Drex kicks it into a gear I wasn’t prepared for. The edges of my dress rise, promising I would have given everyone an eyeful, and I cling to him that much tighter as the rest of the crew follows close behind.

  Giggling. I am giggling. Unbelievable.

  Streetlights illuminate the road ahead, and all the headlights and taillights seem to show pause once they catch sight of the bikers nearing. I can almost feel Drex’s smile as everyone on the street moves to the sides, letting us pass through as though we’re royalty.

  Apparently no one gets in the way of them. It’s almost a powerful high, and for a fleeting second, I understand what it’s like to be badass. But I’m only seeing it from the sidelines, because I never plan to really be like them.

  This is temporary. Hopefully. He’ll eventually grow tired of me, and if I’m lucky, my debt will be considered paid. Then I can go on and live a normal life with a real, healthy relationship—as long as I survive until then.

  It doesn’t take us long before we’re pulling up at the club, and I swallow hard. It’s not just a club… It’s a strip club. Their strip club. Shit.

  That’s what he meant by lap dances and girls wanting to see him. He’ll be like a king in here.

  I clamber off the bike rather ungracefully as my nerves uncoil in my stomach. He hasn’t left the garage this past week. He’s had a lot of business. So I’ve not had to worry about him screwing around with other girls. But tonight… I have a feeling that’s about to change.

  The second I see him with another girl, the part of me that has made peace with this arrangement will be shattered, and the reality of this situation will sink in. I’ll feel sick when he touches me after I’ve had to watch his hands all over another woman.

  At least I had a week. That’s more peace than I expected.

  As everyone gets off their bikes, Drex undoes my helmet and then his. I pull my shorts off without letting anyone see under my dress, and Mack gives me a wink when he tries to steal a peek again.

  Pervert.

  Drex drops his arm over my shoulders as a big man with a tattooed, bald head opens the doors for us. I steel myself as we walk into the rowdy club that reeks of smoke, sweat, and sex.

  My eyes immediately find the stage, and the first wave of nausea hits me. The song playing isn’t meant for seduction, but the almost-naked girl on the stage seems to be changing the meaning of the lyrics with every twist and turn on the pole.

  The girls waiting tables have on shorts that might as well be panties, and their shirts stop just under their breasts, hanging loosely like they were intentionally cut that way. Their high heels make my small heels look pathetic.

  I felt so sexy until we got here.

  “What do you think?” Drex asks over the music as we head toward a front set of booths that are all empty and near the stage.

  I think I’m going to hate every second of this.

  “I should have worn a different dress,” I mutter dryly.

  He laughs, though I don’t know how he heard that. Damn.

  “You can give me a lap dance later. That dress is going to drive me crazy,” he says close to my ear, and then he lets his hot breath linger and leave a damp trail of fog on my jaw as he slowly pulls his lips down to mine.

  My heartbeat speeds up, and he brushes his lips against mine just barely before pulling back. Damn tease.

  He smiles as though he knows what he’s done, and I roll my eyes before looking back at the stage. I don’t stand a chance of keeping his attention in here.

  He guides me into the rounded booth, and I sit down in the arch of it as Snake and Sarah join us. Drex leans back, his eyes on the stage as a new girl walks out. I already hate this night, and it’s just getting started.

  “They don’t fuck these girls,” Sarah says, suddenly very close to my ear, and I’m forced to jump a little by the startling close proximity. “Believe me, I know. I used to be one.”

  I turn to face her, and she offers me a bright smile and a shrug. That’s not very comforting. Snake met her here, and now they’re together. Obviously they do fuck these girls if they’re interested enough.

  “You look miserable already,” Drex says, drawing my attention back to him.

  It’s a little hard to voice all the thoughts in my head. Fortunately, Sarah chimes in. “If it were a bunch of guys on stage stripping and fucking us with their eyes, how good would you feel?” she asks him, smirking as though she’s baiting him.

  That girl has ovaries of steel.

  Drex frowns while glancing around. “It’s a strip club. She seemed excited on the way here.” His eyes turn to me. “What were you expecting it to be like?”

  I feel like he wants me to tell him I’m having fun, but I don’t feel like playing my role tonight.

  “This is exactly what I expected. I’m sure there will be more things I’m expecting to come later. Can I go get a drink?”

  He glances around at the very full club. “I’ll order you something. One of the girls should be coming by any second now to take our order.”

  The bar is just behind us, and standing a little lets me look over the back of the booth for a better view. Even the bartender is a sexy woman. He took me to his playhouse, and I was excited to come.

  I’m so stupid.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I say, shrugging as I lower back down to my seat. “Can I go talk to the bartender and ask what she thinks I should get? That’s usually what I do.”

  I actually never order drinks, considering my twenty-first birthday is still a few months away. Until him, I had only ever had a drink or two in my life. But his lifestyle requires alcohol—lots of alcohol.

  He lights up a cigarette, and I tilt my head. I’ve never seen him smoke, and I’ve never tasted it on him. “Sure. Take Sarah, though. No one will mess with her because they know who she is. They don’t know you yet. Tell Beth to put it on my tab.” He pulls me to him, and he puts his mouth right against my ear. “Don’t even think about doing something to piss me off.”

  I’m not sure why he thinks I would, but I suddenly feel the tinge of fear that usually gets lost under the thick veil of false security I’ve had.

  Instead of speaking, I kiss his neck, running my lips down to his collarbone, and I move to straddle his lap before I put my lips to his ear.

  “Why would I want to piss you off?”

  He thrusts up while holding me against him, and I moan lightly from the friction.

  “Because it turns you on,” he tells me.

  He gauges me and measures me carefully, and then he slides his hands to be on my ass when I don’t speak.

  “Fine. Go. But hurry back. Elise is on next, and she’ll be all over me if you’re not here to help me run interference.”

  I can’t help but grin, and he nudges me off his lap while cursing and saying something under his breath. Sarah slides over Snake who purposely doesn’t move out of the booth. But Drex motions for me to go the other way, and Sledge evacuates the booth quickly to clear a path for me.

  The other club members have all taken seats at the surrounding booths that are apparently only theirs. But within the club, there are numerous cuts on numerous men—all of whom look just as scary as the Death Dealers. For some reason, they’re all looking my way.

  “Why is ev
eryone looking at me?” I ask Sarah as she loops her arm through mine and guides me toward the bar.

  In her short pair of leather shorts and her slinky, red, transparent top with a red bra underneath, she looks so much more appealing. They should be looking at her.

  “Because you look like you just escaped a convent, and you’re the sexy nun they want to fuck. Drex will kill someone if they mess with you. Now why’d you want away from the booth? Something wrong?”

  The concern in her eyes is genuine, and we get behind the crowd at the bar to wait our turn with the lone bartender. Sarah has been nothing but sweet to me, so I don’t want to lie to her. I don’t feel like I even have to lie.

  “I don’t want to see another girl in Drex’s lap.”

  She laughs while shaking her head. “The girls only dance on them for a few seconds. Then they collect their tips and move on to the next man waving cash. Don’t worry. Drex has never and will never take one home, because he’s not the kind of guy who can date a stripper—even for a night. He’s too controlling for all that, and if he wants attention, he demands it that second.”

  When I don’t speak, she continues.

  “I danced on him numerous times, and he never even knew my name. When Snake introduced me as his woman, Drex told me it was nice to meet me. He had no clue. These girls are faceless to him, other than Elise, and that’s only because she comes to the clubhouse a lot. He can’t stand her, so don’t worry. Not all the guys think that way. Snake fell in love after our lap dance, but he wouldn’t date me until I quit. Most of them don’t share. Just remember that.”

  Considering I don’t want to be shared, I see no reason to remember that point of advice.

  “Beth!” Sarah yells, and the bartending beauty smiles over at her. “Two vodka and cranberries over here.”

  Beth nods and starts fixing them just as a body presses too close to mine. There are a few things that confuse me, and one of them is the fact that I can tell this isn’t Drex without looking.

  “So the new girl is off her leash?” a man drawls, his breath too close to my skin.

  I look over to see Drex is staring at the stage as the girl I assume is Elise fucks him with her eyes, and I suck in a deep breath.