Princess

by Sapphire Knight

  I went to a junior college since my father wouldn’t pay for a larger school, and I had to go where financial aid would allow. It was extra shitty because I remember him getting a new Harley that year. At least, in the end, it meant that I still had my mom and Bethany around me.

  Brently, on the other hand, got to go away to a decent college. He was awarded a sports scholarship that paid most of his way. Not like any of it matters anymore, with his chosen career path. He’s turned into a giant asshole just like my dad.

  After all the lying and cheating my father put my mom through, I just can’t forgive him. Now Brently’s going on that list too. He should be helping me, not making it harder. Traitor!

  I haven’t spoken to my mom in almost four weeks. I kept seeing my dad’s new bike parked out front of her house, so I didn’t want to stop by. Then, he’s answered her phone every time I’ve called, so I gave up ringing her.

  When it comes down to it, I don’t have anything to say to him right now. I’d rather keep driving or hang up, than waste more breath on being angry at him. Obviously, my words in the past never did anything to change his ways, so hopefully this drastic plan of mine will.

  In the beginning, when he’d pull his shit with Mom, I’d been able to speak to her about it. She was always saying that she needed him, which I know was a load of bull. I’ve been the one around her—all the time—even when I was in college in Austin. She’s always been such a strong woman; she never sees it, though. He breaks her over and over, yet she rebuilds herself.

  Sure, there’ve been nights when I’d hear her crying or when he’d call lit off his ass begging to talk to her, but he never showed up every day like he’s been doing. We’d go for little spurts of him being around for like three days, and then he’d vanish again. Each time he’d show up with the same sob story of ‘he couldn’t take it anymore, and he loved her.’

  I never understood back then or now, how she could easily forgive him. Her favorite justification, when confronted about it, was always ‘love’s blind and forgiving.’ Well, I’ll embarrass him so badly this time that he’ll stay away from my mom for good. She won’t have to make excuses for him any longer. I never want my dad to hurt her ever again; she deserves real love and happiness.

  He’s done all that and yet the guys he has with him call him the Prez. What kind of shitty man like that deserves to be called the President of any organization?

  Ugh. Maybe getting my payback will end up opening my brother’s eyes again.

  When I showed up at that crappy bar tonight, it was pure blind luck on my part. I stopped in to see if they knew where I could find some of the Oath Keepers guys. The bar’s located near the clubhouse, so I figured I’d give it a shot. I struck freaking gold when—pretty much right away—I ran into one of their Prospects. He was cute and seemed kinda sweet, definitely looking to get laid until the big guy showed up to interrupt us.

  The other man was insanely good-looking, but he was no Prospect. As soon as the wild group of bikers came barreling into the bar, my body went on guard. Their cuts said Nomad and my mother’s warned me about those types of guys, as well as club members from back in her time with my father.

  With the lifestyle they live, I seriously doubt I could handle one of them. But, I may try it out in the future, especially if it’s with the guy I saw tonight. Sweet fucking baby Jesus that man was so delicious looking. He seemed rough and sexy all over, and to top it off; his name patch said ‘Viking.’

  It was the last thing I saw before I was headed out the door, needing to regroup and come up with a better game plan. Because fuck me, how on earth do you get called something like Viking? You know it can’t just be because he’s massive. It has to be more. I’m betting he’s a very dangerous man, and the scary thing is, that sounds fucking hot.

  Next week I’m damn sure dragging Bethany back in there with me to help. It was her idea originally, so she better be up on acting as my wingman. She’ll probably flip out and offer to fuck them all. She’s a total slut, but I still love her. I’m not the only one with daddy issues, but hers are far more fucked up than mine. The poor woman was beaten and molested by the man who helped create her. I don’t know how she did it; I most likely would have stabbed him when he slept if it were me.

  Also, some much-needed recon is due for the Prospect; any information on him at all would help me out. Oh and Viking too. But how? My mother wouldn’t know either of them, not that I would get to speak to her anyhow. My dad’s probably over at the house, and God knows I don’t want to talk with him.

  Not far from the bar, I pull into the parking lot of my quaint apartment. Climbing out of my car, I slam the door, relieved to be home.

  It’s nothing special, but it’s become home to me and occasionally Bethany when she decides to stay over. I don’t make a lot of money, but it’s enough to get me by, thankfully. I’ve never been one for many material things, even with a name like Princess hung over me.

  Tossing my clothes in my hamper, I sluggishly make my way to my awesome fluffy bed and face-plant. I’m buzzed and exhausted. It’s the perfect way to end my day, with a good night’s sleep.

  The next night…

  As I’m getting dressed, my phone goes off, flashing Bethany’s name across the screen,

  “What’s up, chick?” I mutter into the phone as soon as I hit accept, propping it on my shoulder and pull on a sock.

  “You have to get over here,” she shouts loudly over the blaring music in the background.

  “Where are you exactly?” A party or a bar, that’s for sure.

  “I’m at a Coop’s place. You remember Cooper from eleventh grade?”

  “Cooper Williams?” I guess, squinting my eyes as I picture him and Polo shirts from years back. He was somewhat popular back when we were in high school. Nice guy, but nothing special to me.

  “Yeah! He’s back and having a party, but that’s not why I called you.”

  “Okaaay.” I bite my lip waiting; she doesn’t sound bombed yet, but she’s on that route.

  “There’s a guy here! And, he’s wearing a Prospect cut from your dad’s gang. His name is Stitch or Scratch, or, umm...I don’t know, something like that. Anyhow, get over here!”

  “That’s the same guy I met last night at the bar.” Scratch. Thinking of him instantly has my mind flashing to Viking.

  “I saw the text you sent me this morning about meeting a Prospect; that’s why as soon as I saw the guy’s name, I called you. Is he the one?”

  “Thanks, and yeah, I believe it is. I have to do my makeup and can be there in like an hour.”

  “What if he leaves? You need to come here now, this your chance.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to hurry. Does Cooper still live in the same house as high school?”

  “Yeah, same place.”

  “Okay cool, see you soon.”

  “Bye, bitch!” she shouts, laughing, and I hang up.

  Lucky for me, Cooper had a ton of get-togethers in high school, so everyone from this area knows where he lives. I’m not looking forward to seeing that crowd; I’m sure it’ll be littered with floozies, but oh well. This is about my plan, not partying.

  Instead of taking my time getting ready as I would prefer, I lose the comfy socks and shimmy into my favorite pair of daisy dukes. I quickly slide on my new summer sandals, because they pair up perfectly. I look cute but casual. To top my outfit off and make it pop a little, I line my eyes with black kohl and brush on some bright pink lipstick. Men say they hate lipstick, but they love that shit, especially if it’s smeared a little by them.

  Thank God my hair’s already dry, or it’d set me back another twenty minutes. The blonde locks damn near brush my waist, just like my mom’s always have.

  I stuff my ID and some cash in my back pocket, grab my phone and keys and then I’m on my way. The drive takes about fifteen minutes, and as soon as I park, I’m jumping out of my car. I can tell myself all I want that I’m in a rush to see if my dad’s Prospect is st
ill here, but even I know that’s bullshit. Viking’s who I want to catch a glimpse of.

  Bethany’s easy for me to spot as I find her playing beer pong—her usual—so I make my way over. Pinching her butt, I step to the side, messing with her a little, and she turns—surprised—until she realizes it’s me. I get instantly embraced in an exaggerated hug and giggle, so she’s been drinking awhile.

  “Damn, that was fast.” She smiles.

  “I hurried. I want a beer and to see this guy again.”

  “Okay, come on, there’s still liquor left too if you want a few shots.” She pokes her beer pong partner’s arm until he gives her some attention. “Play my turn; I’ll be right back.”

  “You promise?” He slurs like the typical weak frat boy out of his neighborhood, causing me to roll my eyes. Another loser seems like, already pretty plastered and guaranteed to puke at some point.

  “Be right back.” She nods to him and yanks my wrist, so I follow her toward the kitchen.

  “Who’s the dude?” I gesture back to Mr. Beer Pong.

  “I don’t know,” she laughs, “but he’s kinda’ cute.”

  “You could do better; he has puker written all over him,” I argue.

  “I’m not picky.” She shrugs and I keep my mouth shut, grabbing a beer from a bald guy manning the keg.

  “Thanks,” I say, tipping my cup toward him slightly since he didn’t fill it to the top and have it spill everywhere. The guy obviously knows how to pour a beer.

  “Anytime,” he smirks looking me up and down like I’m his next conquest.

  Ugh, go polish your forehead, douche.

  Bethany leads me back to the beer pong table so she can keep playing and the beat kicks up to one of my favorite songs by The Hills. The volume gets cranked even louder after a second in what should be the living room. The new song pouring through the oversized speakers draws my attention to the people dancing, and I spot the Prospect. He’s leaning against the living room wall, just watching them all.

  Scratch’s giving me such an easy in right now, and he doesn’t even know it. Swaying my hips like I want to dance, I make my way over into his direct line of sight. My gaze hits his briefly, just enough to draw him to me, as I grind my hips seductively to the beat.

  Like bees to honey, he’s on me in no time at all. Just like that, he’s already hooked; I know it. He pulls my waist into him, gripping my hips securely. Following my rhythm, he moves along with me at first, eventually taking over the lead.

  My red solo cup gets crunched, and beer starts to spill over, so I take a few big gulps and attempt to concentrate on not spilling it down my chin as well, while we continue to dance. I’d appreciate it if I could get some sort of buzz established; it’d give me a boost of courage to do what I need to later.

  I wasn’t the type who went out and fucked around in high school. I wouldn’t be labeled as a good girl per se, but I wasn’t a whore by any extent. College was different; I explored some and had a good time, but most of all, I learned what I liked. This situation, though, is slightly nerve racking. I’m planning to seduce Scratch when I don’t want him. Like at all.

  As soon as the red cup leaves my lips, he reaches around and takes it from me. Before I can get turned around to protest, he finishes the liquid off and tosses the plastic cup toward an overfull trash can.

  “I wanted more,” I state loudly and cock my eyebrow. I needed it.

  Grinning playfully, Scratch tugs my front into him, until our faces are so close that our noses are almost brushing together. He takes the lead again as our bodies gyrate against each other, and his leg pushes between mine. His firm palms cup my ass, applying enough pressure so that each time he moves, my pussy rubs against his thigh and gets a little wetter. We’re close enough that I can easily feel his cock hardening with each thrust.

  “We can get more later,” he says watching my eyes and mouth each time he presses me against his thigh. Giving him the reaction he craves, I imagine riding the big biker’s thigh from the other night and part my lips letting a small, breathy moan escape, building up his ego.

  Scratch’s fairly good-looking with his fuller lips, hazel eyes, and shaved short hair. By the dancing, he doesn’t appear to be in bad shape either. He’s slightly more on the thinner side than what I normally would be attracted to, but this isn’t about me finding a man and my preferences. It’s strictly based on my mission to fuck with my dad and his club.

  Running my hands over his back, I pierce my nails into his shoulders coercing Scratch to me so he thinks that I can’t possibly get enough of him. He complies, feathering his lips over my neck, pressing wet kisses as he goes.

  I need to clear my mind and get into it; I have to make this happen. I want to get it over with as soon as possible, so I’m going to make this nice and simple for him.

  “Do you want to go somewhere with some privacy?” I suggest breathily next to his ear.

  “Yeah, sugar, I’m cool with whatever.”

  Bingo.

  Thank God he has no idea who I am, because if so, he’d also know that my father would strangle him for kissing all over me like he is. Not having a good relationship with my dad doesn’t mean he wouldn’t teach his Prospect a lesson. It’d take a certain kind of man for the Prez not to scare the shit out of them.

  Thinking about it, makes me giddy inside. It’s so fucked up, but I can’t stop feeling this way, knowing I’ll be one step closer to sleeping with a few of them. Then I’ll get to break it to my father that his club has benefitted me as well. I’ll finally get that small piece of satisfaction knowing I’ve hurt and disappointed my dad like he’s done to my poor mom for so long. In the end, she’ll be happier with him gone, and that’s all I want.

  Payback’s a bitch, motherfucker.

  “Great, let’s see if we can find a room or something.”

  “Even better.” He nods, following me down Cooper’s narrow hallway until we find an empty bedroom. I should have brought a leash; it’s been that easy so far.

  Once I’m over the threshold and pulling Scratch inside the room with me, I kick the door closed. Ready to make this real for him and get my head in the game, I begin kissing him passionately. Closing my eyes, I search for my happy place. I’ll be pushing it all to the back of my mind as soon as possible anyhow. I need to make this memorable for him. I want him to brag as much as possible, especially around the clubhouse. Then once it comes out to my dad, everyone will know about it already.

  Scratch instantly reciprocates, his hands eagerly wandering all over my body. He rushes the entire process like he’s going to burst in his pants. I was expecting his hands to be callused since he’s a wannabe biker and all, but they’re soft.

  Why does that seem so wrong to me? Have I ever noticed callused hands before? Maybe it’s because I would assume him being rough and tough, but I’m not even naked yet, and he’s not meeting my expectations.

  Shit! Fuck! What expectations? Erase them, bury that crap, and stick to your plan.

  He pulls away breathing heavier, pushing his groin into me a few times. Scratch’s so wound up; he starts kissing over my throat again as he pants, “Let me get you off first in case I don’t last. You’re one fine piece of ass, sugar; you ever been with a biker before?”

  “No, and I don’t want to talk about it either.” God, no talking or his breath may kill me. Hot beer scent isn’t something that excites my pussy. “I think the cut is hot, though.” I throw in for extra measure like he’s going to be some prize for me, hopefully building up his ego. “Please, I want you so badly, I can’t help myself. I can’t believe I saw you here; it must have been meant to be.”

  It all sounds so rehearsed and fake. Because it is.

  If I don’t work on this better and end up getting an experienced club guy, he’ll be able to see right through me. My entire plan could be blown to shit, everything going downhill if that happens. Or else next time I need to make sure I’ve had a few shots or something, and then I’d be able to
blur it all and relax.

  “Well I wouldn’t go that far, but us havin’ fun was meant to be, for sure,” he mumbles on his way to my chest.

  I get tired of him slobbering on me so I push him off, his eyes meeting mine, confused. The first dirty thought stumbles out to get him back on track. “I can think of better places for that tongue.”

  “Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Okay, over here.”

  “Perfect,” Scratch says and catches my arms, pulling me to him. He guides me, walking backward as we’re pressed up against each other. His body is warming me with each step until the pits of my knees hit the mattress. The bed’s made up with a hunter green duvet and appears to still be clean. Thankfully, I don’t think anyone’s found their way in here yet. Regardless, I’m not touching the sheets, so I’ll just lie on top.

  He pushes my shorts down my legs, his hand shooting between my thighs excitedly. I use the alcohol and my determination to get my body turned on, wetting his overzealous hand.

  I feel like a fucking whore right now. Tons of women would be stoked to be here with him; he’s decent, just not for me. Time to fucking suck it up and do this to hurt my father. I’ll wound him any way possible to pay him back for the heartache and distress he’s caused our family, even if I have to play the bad guy for a little while. I want him to feel such disappointment and embarrassment, just as I have my entire life growing up. I want his fucking heart to hurt. Empty inside from the father that was never there.

  “I thought I was getting your mouth?” I don’t want to fuck him, so if I can get away with oral that would surely count toward my goal. No doubt he’ll be back at the clubhouse bragging about how he had some blonde chick on her knees the night prior.

  “You can have whatever you want with that tight little puss you got down there. I can’t wait to taste you, sugar” he mumbles and squats.

  His fingers leave my wetness and tangle in the strings of my underwear as he carelessly pulls on them, yanking the elastic toward him. I don’t know if he thought he could rip them or what, but it doesn’t work so he shoves them down to my ankles. He leaves them resting at my feet and pushes his face between my legs.