Tied Down

by Vanessa Waltz

  “I can’t believe this shit.” His voice is breathless as he takes my hand, the one with the gash, and runs his thumb underneath the wound. Then his voice turns black. “If he was any other man, I would kill him. I would turn my car around right now, and gun him down in front of his wife.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a gritty voice. It’s hard to believe that the sound came from his chest. There’s no warmth in him, just cold rage.

  “He’s still my—”

  “He’s the president, and I owe him the courtesy of explaining what happened, but if he was anyone else he would be dead for touching my girl.”

  I freeze in his arms as he presses his cool cheek to mine.

  “I’m not your girl.”

  He doesn’t skip a beat. “You’re carrying my kid. That makes you mine.”

  No, I don’t think so.

  “I didn’t leave the MC to be possessed by another man.”

  “So you didn’t get what you wanted. Too fucking bad.”

  My heart flutters as his lips touch the side of my temple. I really hate how good it feels to be in his arms. I tilt my head to the side to avoid his touch even though I crave it.

  “You’re just like my father. You don’t care about me. You just want to control me.”

  “I saved your goddamn ass in that bar.”

  “Only because I’m carrying your kid.”

  His hands slip under my shirt and I gasp as his palm touches my stomach. Urgent lips touch the side of my head, making me burn as his hands glide over me. His hands make a mockery of my pride. They make my skin singe.

  “You think that’s the only reason?”

  He kisses my neck and it’s like being injected with Valium. I slump into his arms. I’m just so fucking tired of fighting all the time. It’d be nice to give in, for once. To let them win.

  But I can’t.

  “I think you’d be crazy to risk everything for pussy.”

  “World-class pussy.”

  I feel his smile tickling my flesh.

  “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  His hands sweep over my body, sensual and rough at the same time. They curve over the hard bones of my ribs and then his fingers slide under my bra. A thin gasp cuts through the air and my heart beats like a hummingbird’s wings, instantly sent into overdrive. Warmth pulses between my legs and I close them, uncomfortably wet as he gropes my tits.

  I should be pissed that the only reason he wants me around is because of how good the sex is, but how can I be surprised? We barely know each other and it was always supposed to be a one-time deal. One night became two nights plus that tryst at the doctor’s office, and here we fucking are.

  He slides his hand over mine and grazes the wound. He hears my hiss of pain and glances at it.

  “You should have never went back. You should have stayed when I told you to stay.”

  I hate flinching from the anger in his voice. “I didn’t think he would find out so quickly.”

  “I don’t care what you thought would happen. You should have listened to me.”

  Arrogant prick.

  “I don’t need to listen to you.” He cuts my voice off with a gale of laughter, and I shove his chest, pushing myself away from him. “I’ve spent my whole life under my dad’s thumb, and I don’t intend on becoming your little bitch.”

  He gives me a wide grin, trying to stifle his chuckles. “Well, you can play that game with me, but you won’t win.”

  “Try me.”

  “You don’t have a choice, baby. It’s me or the streets.”

  Ruthless eyes bore into mine and his smile freezes. “Believe me, Maya. You want me in your life.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re better off with me than without. You know that.” His hand drops heavily over my thighs. “I won’t let you go, anyway.”

  My insides seethe at being told that I need a man. I don’t fucking need him. “I just need a place to stay for a week or two, and then I’m on my own.”

  “I’m not letting you in unless you agree to get engaged.”

  My jaw drops open. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “My house, my rules.”

  “I only need a place for a couple weeks!”

  “Until what?”

  “Until I get my credit cards and money from my bank.”

  A strange look falls over Johnny’s face and his hand falls on the back of my neck. I’m so pissed off that I want to throw him off, but instead I revel in the feeling of his fingers slowly massaging my knots.

  “Sweetie, he’s probably on his way to freeze your bank accounts.”

  “What?”

  He shrugs. “It’s what I would do.”

  Shit. He’s probably right.

  “C—can I use your phone?”

  I just can’t believe that my father would use his connections to do something so petty. The pitying look creases his eyes, but he slips his hand down his slacks and hands me his heavy iPhone.

  I call the bank of Montreal as Johnny watches me unsmilingly. His hand at the back of my neck soothes me as a clinical voice cracks on the speaker.

  “Hi, I need to withdraw money from the bank, but I lost all my cards.”

  I rattle off my personal information as she finds my account.

  “I’m sorry, madame, but it appears that your bank account was emptied today.”

  “What? Who gave the authorization? I never—”

  “It looks like you had a joint account with your father. I’m sorry, but he withdrew all the money about one hour ago.”

  Years of work, gone in an instant. My hopes and dreams, completely fucked. Ruined. Turned to shit.

  “But he can’t—” I sob into the receiver and the banker’s voice softens.

  “Do you want me to contact the authorities?”

  I shake my head as a ball of fury builds up behind my eyes. “No.”

  The banker murmurs something else into the phone, but I pull away and tap the red circle, ending the call. The screen fades to darkness, unlike the pressure in my head, which is close to the breaking point.

  “It was a joint fucking account. I basically just handed him the money.”

  He winces in sympathy.

  “I fucking hate him.”

  Johnny covers my shaking hand with his. “I hated my dad, too.”

  Is that supposed to make me feel better?

  Suddenly the car grinds to a halt in front of Johnny’s high-rise, and my hands clench over my knees.

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  No, I never did. All the way back to my fucking birth, I never had a goddamn choice.

  “I don’t see why we have to get married,” I say in a shaking voice.

  “Number one: it’s the right thing to do. Two: it might just save this alliance of ours.”

  The driver opens the door for us and Johnny gets out first, extending his hand to me. I ignore it and stand up, brushing the gesture aside. His hand finds mine as Chris drives away, and he pulls me against his chest, the grip biting.

  “Don’t do that again.”

  “What?”

  Even though I know exactly what.

  “Don’t be disrespectful toward me in front of others. I’m the boss.”

  “You’re not my boss.”

  Against his chest, I smell the fresh scent of his skin and that tantalizing male musk from his hair. His smile widens, reminding me of that predatory stare he gave me when we first met, when I knew he was the one I wanted to spend the night with.

  “Why don’t you say that to me again when I get you upstairs?”

  Energy shoots straight into my heart like a live wire. He grabs my elbow and leads me to the marble-floored foyer and into the elevator. All the while my heart hammers against my chest. As soon as the elevator doors close, he turns around, and I’m no match for his deadly smirk and the rippling muscles flexing his arms, which pin me against the wall. He’s
so much stronger than he looks.

  “The moment you step through that door into my apartment, you become my fiancée.”

  A thrill runs through my heart as I look at the faint lines beside his eyes that wrinkle when he smiles. He’s so much older than me, and I don’t understand anything that’s going on in his head. He shouldn’t want this, but he does.

  If I go in there, I’m never coming back out.

  “I’m not ready.” I hate how high my voice sounds.

  Johnny grasps my chin lightly and runs his thumb under my bottom lip.

  “This isn’t about love, sweetheart. Love doesn’t exist for people like us.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I intend to find it.”

  “Not with me. Get those thoughts out of your head.”

  Pitiless black eyes stare back at me. Just when I’m reeling from the sensations he gives me, he drives a spike through my heart.

  “This is about what we both need to do.”

  “You can’t want this.”

  “I do.”

  “You want to marry me?”

  “If you’re going to have my kid, we need to be married.”

  A growl of frustration rips from my throat. It’s like talking to a fucking robot. The elevator pings and the doors open, but Johnny doesn’t let me down from the wall.

  “Time to make a choice.”

  “C-can’t we wait for a few months?”

  “No,” he snaps.

  Just tell him yes. He can’t force you to do anything.

  My head spinning, I give him a quick, affirmative jerk and he steps back, holding the door open with his arm. “Wise decision, Maya.”

  “You forced me into this,” I spit as he brings me to his apartment.

  There’s no remorse on his face. “I will do whatever it takes to keep this alliance from blowing up in my face.”

  So it really has nothing to do with what’s best for the baby, does it? My insides seethe as he unlocks the door. I cross my arms and walk inside, heading straight for the living room as the door shuts.

  I look around at the beautiful, spotless apartment and a cold shiver runs through my limbs. It’s a gilded cage, isn’t it? I sink into the couch without realizing it’s there.

  Johnny moves swiftly in front of the couch and sits down next to me, reaching into his jacket for a small black box.

  My heart jumps in my throat as he cradles it in his hand.

  “It’s not exactly how I proposed to my last two wives.”

  The breath I don’t even realize I’m holding in blows out. “What happened to your last two wives?”

  “I killed them.” He turns his head, laughter on his face. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  “What happened?” I say in a firmer voice.

  “What’s there to say? They didn’t work out.”

  Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand why they didn’t.

  I wonder what kinds of wives would cause this extremely traditional Mafioso bastard to divorce them.

  “I think I have a right to know.”

  His fingers close around the box and I almost flinch at the look in his eyes.

  “Not now, Maya.”

  I glare back at him, but he looks away, back at the black box. It pops open and a diamond splinters the light into a rainbow of fragments. He gently tugs it out of the box.

  I’m amazed. The tiny band glitters with a thousand small diamonds. He takes my hand and slides the ring over my finger. It’s tight. My breathing quickens as though he’s wrapping a collar around my neck. And I can’t believe I’ve said yes to this man I barely know, this Italian guy who I just wanted a one-night stand with.

  It’s a beautiful ring. It’s big and gaudy and expensive.

  And it’s not me at all.

  “This is too much.”

  “You don’t like it? I can get another fucking ring.”

  I don’t want another fucking ring.

  I twist it off my finger and slap it back in his hand, and then I stand up from the couch.

  “I’m sorry. I think I’ll take my chances at the women’s shelter.”

  An extremely shocked look crosses over his face, which quickly darkens. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He’s too cold—too brutal, and just not enough.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.”

  Then I walk toward the door, my head completely clear. I’d rather live in poverty than marry a man who doesn’t give a fuck about me. Hell, we don’t give a fuck about each other.

  My body snaps backward and spins around as he grabs my upper arms.

  “Let me go!”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “You need me more than I need you!”

  He shoves me against the wall, his face red as he yells at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t give a fuck about me. All you care about is your fucking family.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My head’s a bit preoccupied with knocking up the daughter of the most powerful biker gang leader.”

  “So I’ll just leave town. He will never find out and we won’t have to get married.”

  “There’s no fucking way I’d let you leave town.”

  “Actually, I think it’s a free country—”

  I shove his chest, and scream in outrage when he pins me back against the wall effortlessly. His face splits with a wide smile as he laughs at my anger.

  “Maya, I want this baby. I really do.”

  “Have a fucking kid with someone else!”

  “I tried, and they didn’t work out. You will.”

  “Well, you have shitty judgment because I can’t stand you.”

  I hold my breath in as my cheeks slowly burn, immediately regretting those words, but Johnny merely shrugs, looking unconcerned.

  “You can’t stand me, huh?”

  The hands holding my wrists to the wall become sensual.

  Oh no.

  They glide over my skin, giving me goose bumps as Johnny’s hips dig into mine. His lips just brush my cheek.

  “You must hate my fucking guts.”

  I feel the outline of his cock, slowly starting to harden against my thigh. I clench my thighs together and feel the wetness gathering between him.

  “Y-yeah.”

  Damn it.

  It’s as though he flipped a switch that makes my skin hypersensitive. His hand glides up my neck and grasps my face, so that I’m staring right into his shit-eating grin.

  I wasn’t lying. I can’t fucking stand him.

  “Asshole.”

  “Biker bitch.”

  He crushes his lips against mine and every last thread of resistance snaps. He weaves his fingers through my hair and yanks hard so that I moan in pain. This man is not fucking capable of being gentle, but that’s fine.

  I like it when he’s rough.

  Fingers claw at my dirty clothes, ripping them from my head. He’s like a fucking animal—the way he treats my body. So rough and violent, but that’s probably all he knows. My bra straps dig into my shoulders as he yanks hard and then hurls the bra away from him, the cold air stinging my nipples. His mouth finds my shoulder and he utters a subhuman growl, biting a vicious mark into my skin. Jesus. It burns, and then he releases me, kissing the next spot. He reaches my neck and I cringe, but there he proves that he can be gentle. Featherlight kisses touch the sore skin, but he grabs my jaw and lays his lips on my mouth, cruelly devouring them.

  My back hits the door of his bedroom and it slams open, banging against the wall. We’re not even in bed, and I’m already soaking my panties. It’s the way he treats me, like I’m his addiction and he can’t help but lose himself around me.

  Fuck me, you bastard.

  He grabs my hand and forces it over the hard rock between his legs. I wrap my fingers around his cock as he hovers an inch from my face.

  “You’re going to make my cock your full-time job from now on.”

  Laugh
ter bursts from my mouth as he stands back. Is he a parody or what?

  “What did I tell you about laughing?”

  “You said you’d kick me out, but we both know that won’t happen.”

  He beckons with a finger. “Come here.”

  I roll my eyes and follow him as he drags an enormous box out of his closet. He crouches over it, blocking the contents from view as he takes this and that, shutting the box before I can catch a glimpse. He walks to the door first, and then he reaches up to the frame and slips some kind of material behind it. It shuts and two straps hang from the top. Then he walks back to me and picks up the Velcro handcuffs from the floor.

  Fuck. I see where this is going.

  “Give me your wrists.”

  The grittiness in his voice strikes a chord deep inside my body. Warmth floods to my skin as I give him my hands, and I feel as though I’m handing over my freedom at the same time. He wraps the Velcro straps over my wrists, his eyes flaying me alive as he tightens them with deliberate slowness.

  Then he slides his hands down my waist and the throbbing ache between my legs pounds like a heartbeat.

  “You’re going to have to learn to obey your future husband.”

  The smile playing on his lips makes me wonder if he’s fucking with me, but the more I get to know him and his bullshit adherence to tradition, the more I suspect he’s serious. Is there any harm in letting him think that he owns me?

  “I am.”

  “You’re not. You’re just doing what I say because you want my fat cock inside you.”

  Yeah.

  He takes my wrists and pushes me backward, until my back hits the door. Then he takes each wrist and anchors them securely to the hooks hanging from the top of the doorframe. They pull at my wrists, my arms stretched high above my head as Johnny trails his fingers down my neck and around my tits, his thumb playing with my hardened nipples.

  Holy fuck he feels amazing. Just a light graze of his fingers around that sensitive skin makes the air thinner. His body is inches from mine, the heat blazing but out of reach. I want his naked skin pressed against mine, but he lets me smolder. A smirk staggers over his face when I inhale a sharp breath as he takes my tits in his hands and squeezes.

  “I’m taking in what belongs to me. You have no idea how sexy you look like this.”