“She was his, and now she’s mine,” he announces.
Motorhead laughs, the sound sharp and humorless. “Says who? That dead fat fuck? He ain’t shit, and now he’s dead. Esme ain’t yours, and she was never his. He took her, and held her against her will,” he says.
My face heats as people around the bar become interested in this faceoff. Now whoever didn’t know about me, does.
I hate that.
I would rather be anonymous than be known as the girl who was kidnapped. Although, both Hayden and Ginger were kidnapped as well, it seems to be a trend around here.
The stranger turns around, ignoring Motorhead, and his eyes meet mine. “I’ll take you back to where you belong, Esme. Sooner or later,” he states. He makes a gasping sound as blood sprays all over my face and body. Traci lets out a scream from somewhere behind me, but I’m frozen still.
My eyes lift from the gruesome sight in front of me, to meet with Motorhead’s. He doesn’t speak to me, turning his head, I watch as his mouth moves, but I can’t hear anything. The ringing in my ears, the absolute shock has rendered me frozen.
CHAPTER TWO
MOTORHEAD
I tell Traci to call Free and let him know what happened. Then, I reach into my pocket and text a couple of prospects over. There’s already one outside, so he appears almost instantaneously.
“Holy fuck,” he hisses.
I lift my chin, trying to hold back a smirk. I totally slit this motherfucker’s throat wide open. There’s blood everywhere.
Thankfully, the audience we have are all locals, so nobody bothers me. I, also know none of them will call the cops. My eyes travel over to Esme who is staring at the fuck’s lifeless body with a look of utter shock on her face.
After giving the prospect instructions, I leave him be and skirt around the bar toward Esme. Without a word, I pick her up, cradling her like a baby and carry her out of the main bar area.
I know that Ginger’s office is locked, so I don’t bother even attempting to go inside there. Passing by, I make my way toward the women’s bathroom, storming inside and gently easing Esme down to her feet before I turn around and lock the door.
I expect her to immediately start cleaning her face and neck of blood, but she doesn’t, she turns to face me. Her big dark brown eyes widen even more as she looks at me, looking directly into my eyes. Reaching forward I cup her cheek with my hand, ignoring the drying blood of another man on her face.
“You killed him,” she whispers.
I nod once. “Do you think I’m a monster?” I ask.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “You couldn’t be. I’ve seen the devil, Motorhead, I’ve seen the men he surrounds himself with, the true monsters,” she whispers as she lifts her hand and wraps her fingers around my wrist. “You couldn’t be one of them if you tried.”
“I wish I were as good as you think I am, Esme,” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers and closing my eyes.
Her hand releases my wrist. A second later, I feel her fingers wrap around the side of my neck. “You’re better than you think you are. You and your men, here in this club, they’re nothing like that. You’re good, all of you,” she whispers.
“I’ve done bad shit, E,” he grunts.
She snorts, and I lift my head from hers to look down at her smirking bloody face. “We all have. That’s part of life. Are you a bad person who’s done evil shit, or are you a good man who has had to make decisions that are borderline bad?” she asks.
Thinking about her words I shake my head. “Bad shit is bad shit, sweets.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, maybe.”
Releasing her, I step around and make my way to the sink. Gathering a wad of paper towels, I wet them and pump a shit ton of soap on them before I turn back around.
Esme is now facing me, and I begin to clean up her face. We don’t say anything else as I wipe as much blood from her skin as I can.
“You told him I was your woman,” she whispers when I’m almost finished.
I toss the bloodied towels in the trash and lift a shoulder in a shrug. “I did,” I agree.
“Why?”
Her question is simple, and yet the answer is anything but. I want to tell her that I called her that because that’s exactly what she is to me.
I want her to wear my brand.
I want to mark her with my name for the world to see. She owns me, fucking owns every bit of me and I haven’t even been inside of her yet.
She’s so goddamn strong and sexy that all other women have completely melted away from me—they don’t exist anymore.
“You someone else’s?” I ask, grinding my teeth together.
She shakes her head, her wide dark eyes focused on me. I hold my breath when she takes a step closer, our chests almost touching. “I’ve been yours since you rescued me from that cabin,” she whispers.
“Damn fucking right you have,” I growl.
Lifting my hand, I fist the back of her hair and pull her a little closer to me, smashing her chest against mine as I lower my head and press my lips against hers.
Slipping my tongue inside of her mouth, I taste her. She tastes like a mixture of mint and coffee. It’s fucking perfect, just like she is.
Esme lets out a groan and I swallow it, the hand not tangled in her hair grabbing ahold of her ass and pulling it against my hips.
I let out my own moan as my cock hardens and presses against her belly. Her hands fist my cut as she holds on, her tongue sliding against my own with each stroke.
I gently pull away from her, nibbling her bottom lip before I speak. “We don’t stop right now, I’m going to fuck you right here in this bathroom.”
“Promise?” she asks. Her hands shift, and I feel them at the waistband of my jeans.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back. I’ve been dreaming of this moment. I don’t stop her, even though I know that I should. I’ve just killed a man in front of her.
This isn’t right, and I never imagined that I would fuck her for the first time in a bar bathroom. I’m not strong enough to tell her no, not when her hand wraps around my cock.
Watching, I’m unable to look away as she sinks to her knees, giving my dick a squeeze before her tongue touches the head.
I tighten my grip in the back of her hair and urge her to take me inside of her mouth because I’m that much of a fucking asshole.
Esme takes me inside of her mouth, her eyes looking up at me from her knees. I tug her head back and watch as her tongue swirls the head of my cock before she takes me inside of her mouth again.
It’s the most beautiful sight I have ever seen before. I can’t wait to be inside of her, knowing that it will be even more gorgeous.
There’s a knock on the door and Esme tries to pull away from me, but my grip in her hair won’t let her.
“Go away,” I shout.
“Is Esme okay?” Traci’s voice calls out from the other side of the door.
I snort before I answer. “She’s fine.”
I wait for Traci’s footsteps to walk away before I release my hold on Esme’s hair. “Stand up, sweets,” I grunt.
She does, her lips swollen and her face flushed. Goddamn, she’s pretty. I reach out, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans.
Without a word, she shimmies them and her panties down her thighs before stepping out of them and her shoes.
Reaching down, I wrap my hands around her waist and pick her up. Turning us around, I press her back against the door, and my cock against her slick entrance.
“Motor,” she moans, letting her head fall back and land against the door with a thud.
I align my cock with her center, clenching my jaw at the feel of her pussy as I gently push inside of her. She’s warm and tight, the closest thing to heaven that I’ve ever fucking felt in my entire life. Her nails score my neck as I slowly enter her. I don’t want a fast fuck against this door, I want to make her come, and make her ache.
Once I’m com
pletely inside of her, I let out a groan. I never want to leave here, this is where I belong. “You need to move, please,” Esme whimpers.
Lifting my gaze from our connection I look into her big brown eyes. They’re wild, almost unrecognizable with lust. Pulling out of her gently, I glide back inside, my eyes staying connected to hers as I do. I move a little faster, and harder, slamming her back against the wall as she bites on the corner of her lip.
“More,” she begs.
I fuck her hard, harder than I ever intended, my original plan was to take her slow and easy. However, my little Esme has different plans for me.
CHAPTER THREE
ESME
Closing my eyes, I let my body accept and feel. I’ve never experienced something like this before.
Fucking with feelings.
It’s something completely different to me, and I love it. I never want this to end. The way he fills me, the way he stretches me to the point of pain, it feels amazing.
I slip one of my hands from his neck to between us and begin to stroke my clit. He lets out a long moan when I do, and I can’t stop a smile from appearing on my lips.
“Are you going to come for me, sweets?” he asks. I shudder at his nickname for me, it’s absolutely sexy as shit, the way he rasps it.
His hips continue to thrust, his cock slamming inside of me and my back beating against the door in a rhythm that nobody could deny is pure, raw, primal fucking.
I’m so close to the edge, closing my eyes, I let myself relax and that’s when I come. It’s long, and hard, my body shaking as it locks up tightly, even my legs squeeze Motorhead’s waist so hard that I’m afraid I’m hurting him, but I can’t stop myself.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
His hips continue moving, using his strength to break through my own. He slams into me even harder until he lets out a roar and comes deep inside of me. His cock twitches as my pussy clenches and pulses, around him.
“Abe,” he whispers against my lips. I hum, unsure as to what he means. “If you’re going to be my Old Lady, you need to know my real name. It’s Abe.”
Letting my head fall back against the door, I lift my hand and slide my fingers through the side of his hair. “Abe,” I whisper.
He smirks and slowly glides himself in and out of me. His fingers gripping my waist tightly. “Like it when you say it. Never liked my name before,” he murmurs.
“Abe, it’s sexy, like you,” I admit.
He smirks, lowering his forehead to my own and inhales deeply. “You’re mine, Esme,” he states.
“I’m yours, Abe,” I whisper.
He sets me down, we hurry and clean up before we leave the bathroom. I start to tremble at the thought of going back out into the bar and seeing that man, and his lifeless body. Motorhead presses his palm against my back and together we walk into the bar.
I suck in a breath, holding it. I let it out when I realize that the place is not only clean, but everybody is just sitting around like it’s a regular, normal day. As if there wasn’t a murder that just took place here.
“Esme,” Traci calls as she hurries toward me.
She wraps me in a hug and asks if I’m okay in a whisper. I nod, unable to speak. The weight of what’s happened finally coming down on me again.
It was as if when we were in the bathroom, Abe and I were in our own little bubble. Now, it’s different, the real world is all around us again and I can feel myself beginning to panic.
“I’m okay,” I mutter.
She takes a step back from me and looks behind me, then makes eye contact again. “Did you guys finally stop dancing around?” she whispers.
I smile, although it’s a sad smile because I’m a little freaked out about everything that’s happening.
“Only danced around to give her time to acclimate to her new life. She’s been mine since the moment we met,” Motorhead announces, loudly and proudly.
My face heats at his words. I immediately feel both shy and embarrassed all at the same time. Traci smiles widely and lifts her chin. “Take her home, her shift’s done,” she announces.
I open my mouth to protest, but she holds her hand up. “You need time to process that scene, darlin’. I’m not making you work. Plus, you still have blood all over you, I got this.” I watch as she turns around and walks away from us.
Looking down at my shirt, I cringe. I do have blood all over me. “Motorhead,” a voice calls and my head snaps up.
Free is standing at the front door of the bar and lifts his chin before walking outside.
“Let’s go, sweets,” Motorhead grunts beside me. Together we walk out of the bar and toward Free, who is now standing beside his bike.
“Traci told me what happened, you have any idea who that fucker was before you went off half-cocked and slit his throat?” he asks, his voice hard and his facial features doing nothing to hide just how pissed off he is.
Motorhead grunts. “Don’t give a fuck who he was. I know what he wanted, and he wasn’t gonna get it. I know he was a sick piece of shit, and that’s all I needed to know.”
Free shakes his head. “Brother, you’ll never get promoted if you don’t use your head. Snake is not going to like this shit, especially the fact that you did it in public and in his goddamn bar,” he snaps.
Motorhead leans forward and he growls, his voice completely unrecognizable. “I gave him ample opportunities to leave. He was friends with Lucifer, he said he wasn’t going anywhere without Esme because she belonged to him somehow. Fuck that fucking shit. Nobody is taking my goddamn woman, or even threatens to take her.”
“Fuck,” Free hisses. “I thought Lucifer was some kind of lone fucked up mess. He had friends?” Free asks turning to me.
“He had friends,” I whisper.
Motorhead’s hand flexes against my back, and I hate that I’m being forced to even think about the past. I’ve been trying so hard to put it behind me. I’m not sure that it will ever be truly behind me, though. Not if shit like this asshole keeps popping up.
CHAPTER FOUR
MOTORHEAD
I run my hand through my hair. Free is watching Esme, but I can’t even look at her. I was inside of her just minutes ago, selfishly. I shouldn’t have fucked her, and I damn sure shouldn’t have let her suck my dick.
What I should have done is ask her about this guy, and about Lucifer’s friends. I didn’t want to do that though. I want to forget she was kidnapped, that she was raped, and abused. I want it to just all disappear. I want to forget the way she looked when I scooped her in my arms all those weeks ago, and the entire reason we saved her.
I want her to be normal, us to be normal, and just plain mine. I want the rest of that shit to disappear, and for a minute it did.
Now it’s all coming crashing back, and I can tell by the look on her face that Esme is feeling the same fucking thing. Will she ever be mine? Will we ever not have that shit between us.
When I brought her into the clubhouse initially, I kept her in my room. I watched as the doctor examined her, and tested her for pregnancy and diseases. I didn’t take my eyes off of her, I couldn’t.
I’ve been drawn to her from minute one. I told myself it was because she could have possibly known something about Lucifer, about his time hunting Hayden.
Then, reality slapped me in the face when she looked up at me with those big dark brown eyes, when she thanked me for saving her, the second night she slept in my bed.
I didn’t just save her, I took her from Lucifer’s bed and placed her in my own because I wanted her and that thought made me sick to my stomach.
It’s the reason I haven’t done anything about my attraction to her, not until today. I couldn’t hold back a second longer, not when she reciprocated by showing her desire for me.
“You’re going to need to go into detail about that,” Free growls.
Esme shakes her head, her dark hair flying around her face. “I don’t want to ever think about it again. No, Free, don’t make me,�
� she begs.
Free looks from Esme, to me, his eyes sad and his lips downturned. “Sorry, babe. Be at the clubhouse in five,” he grumbles before he walks away.
Esme turns to me as his engine starts and he rides off. Her big brown eyes hold me hostage and I hate the fact that I’m going to have to side with my brother on this. It’s the last thing I want to do right now.
“Please, Abe,” she whispers as tears fill her eyes.
I wrap my hand around her neck and give it a gentle squeeze. “If I could tell him to fuck off, I would, sweets. We need this though. We need to know if you’re in any more danger, or if Hayden and Easton are too. I’m sorry,” I rasp.
“I hate this,” she whimpers.
Lowering my head, I press my lips to hers. “Me too, sweets,” I murmur before I give her a swift kiss.
With Esme pressed against my back, we ride toward the clubhouse. Any other time having her sweet body against mine would be exciting. However, right now all I feel is dread.
I don’t want her to have to relive anything, and yet, I understand why Free needs her to talk about her time with Lucifer. Fucking hell.
Once we’re in front of the clubhouse, I cut my engine and stare at the entrance doors. More fucking dread fills me at the sight.
Esme is holding onto my waist still, her grip tight as shit. Prying her fingers from me, I pat her thigh and she takes the hint, silently, slipping off of my bike. I do the same and together we walk toward the clubhouse.
Glancing to the side, I notice that not only is Free’s bike here, so is Snake’s. When we’re inside of the clubhouse, I don’t bother looking around the bar for either man. Knowing they’re in Snake’s office, I guide Esme toward that direction. Snake is in his chair behind the desk, and Free is sitting on the sofa against the wall.
“You can go, brother,” Snake states, his eyes pointed directly at me.
Laced with Fear Page 28
