Owned by the Biker: Desperados MC

by Ashley Hall

  Isabella smiles but it's small and uncertain. “Could I just have that one, too?”

  Bethy smiles back at her. “Sure thing, honey.”

  It doesn't take long for the yogurt to come out. Isabella picks up her silver spoon and scoops out a bite. She stares at it for a long moment, thinking, this isn't something that I would ever be able to eat if I still lived at home.

  Then she pops it in her mouth, closes her eyes, and hums. “This is amazing!”

  “Everything's better with peanut butter,” says Bethy cheerfully. “Next time, you should try the vanilla bean cinnamon. Oh, come out here with me this winter! They always have the best holiday flavors, like pumpkin pie and eggnog!”

  “Those sound really good too,” says Isabella. She gives the other woman a small smile. In that moment, it feels like Isabella has just found her first real friend. “Thanks, Bethy. This whole day, it's maybe one of the best that I've ever had.”

  And Bethy isn't sure whether to feel proud of herself for giving Isabella that moment or to feel pity over for the princess that has never done anything more wonderful than getting frozen yogurt out in town.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The first two thrift stores are a flop. Bethy doesn't even let Isabella look around. She takes a few looks through the front shelves, then she takes Isabella by the arm and leads her right back out.

  It's the third thrift store that does it. There are rows and rows of dresses hanging on the back wall, hangers with sundresses and formal gowns a like hanging off of it. Bethy points at them and says, “There we go, honey. This is the place. You go look through those dresses and see what you want to wear to your wedding.”

  Isabella gives a giddy laugh. “I've never picked out my own clothes before!”

  “Really?”

  “Heavens, no! Mother had someone do that for us. I wasn't allowed to make that many choices at all, really.”

  “Well, you had to have thought about it. What sort of dress do you see yourself wearing?”

  Isabella laughs. “I had dreams. I had drawings.”

  Bethy leads the young former princess over to the wall of dresses. She looks intrigued, even as she starts rooting through the dresses. “Drawings?”

  “I like to design clothing,” admits Isabella. “It's not something that I've ever really had a chance to do before. That's just not how this sort of thing is done. It's just…princesses don't get to make decisions about their own lives, and we don't get to make choices about things like this.”

  “But you've dreamt?”

  “I always dream.”

  Bethy pulls a flowing white and silver dress off the rack. It's a swoop neck, with flowing sleeves. “Something like this?”

  Isabella shakes her head. “It sounds silly, but I want to get married in anything but a white dress. That's what my mother got married in, and I don't want this wedding to be anything like that.”

  “That doesn't sound silly,” says Bethy. “I can promise you, this won't be anything like their wedding, Izzy. Is that…can I call you Izzy?”

  “I'd like it if you would,” answers Isabella with a smile of her own. She pulls a pale green dress off the rack. It's cut longer in the back than it is up at the front. There's lace hooked to the bodice of it but not the skirt. “What do you think about this?”

  “I like that color,” says Bethy. “But maybe lose the lace. Hey, I've got an idea.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about getting hitched at my bar?”

  Isabella pauses in her search for a wedding dress. “What? Can people…can you do that?”

  “In these days, yeah. You can get married anywhere,” says Bethy, “as long as you hire a person of the justice to come put on the ceremony. And those guys are a dime a dozen right now. You can take courses for it online, so basically anyone could marry you.”

  Isabella stares at Bethy, star-struck. “But you would seriously let us get married at your bar?”

  “Not let you,” says Bethy with a blazing grin of her own, “I'd be honored. I've known Gabe since we were just kids. It would be awesome to have you guys get hitched at my place. Keeps me involved in his life, you know?”

  Isabella doesn't know but she's quick to agree, all the same. For the next three hours, the girls continue to prattle on about everything and nothing, talking and laughing as they search for dresses. Isabella has never had so many choices before in her life, and she's never had to try on and put back so many clothing. The baby bump makes things a touch more difficult. Only certain cut dresses will work, and only certain colors don't turn her into a glorified hippo.

  Bethy keeps telling her that the price doesn't matter much, but Isabella can’t help but be mindful of the cost. In the end, between the dress, shoes, makeup, jewelry, perfume, and the nail polish, they only spend around forty dollars.

  Isabella is so astonished by the low cost of such a beautiful outfit! She's never worn anything but name brand clothing before, never had anything on her skin that wasn't made just for her.

  And this, this will be the most beautiful thing that she's ever worn.

  When they finally step out of the thrift store, Isabella turns and takes Bethy by the hand. As serious as she can be, Isabella asks, “Can I give you a hug?”

  Bethy smiles at her. “Honey, I would be offended if you didn't. Trust me when I say that you never have to ask about giving me a hug. I'm a touchy kind of girl and am always up for a bit of affection on the side.”

  Isabella isn't quite sure what that means. All the same, she shoves her bundle of upcycled bags onto one arm and wraps up the bartender in a tight embrace. “Thank you,” mutters Isabella. “Thank you for everything.”

  # # #

  Bethy insists on taking the purchased items back to her house. She gives Isabella a kiss on either side of the cheek and leaves the young princess to walk up the moth-filled stairwell on her own. The air is thick, wet, and cold, even though the heat can be heard humming in the main lobby.

  It's almost the end of winter. They plan is for them to be married in the spring. Even thinking about it makes Isabella feel giddy! She's never been so excited over anything before!

  Even walking through the dingy hallway can't bring her down. There are claw marks on the front door that leads into Gabe's apartment—their apartment. Isabella wonders if she'll be able to share stories of neighborhood dogs causing chaos soon or if she'll have any actual tales to spin.

  She knocks on the door. From inside, Gabe shouts, “Let yourself in! I left the door unlocked for you, sweet cheeks, until we can get you an actual key.”

  Isabella lets herself in. The television is playing some action movie that she's never heard of before. Gabe is puttering around in the kitchen. It looks like he's trying to clean up the place. “I'm going to get a key?”

  “Of course you're going to get a key. Don't be ditzy, Izzy.”

  “I'm not being ditzy. What are you over there doing?”

  “Trying to pick up so we don't have to eat out every day.”

  Isabella smiles. “You know how to cook?”

  “I know how to throw a box mix on the stove,” says Gabe cheerfully. “Did you have fun on your girls’ day?”

  “I did,” says Isabella. “I really, really did.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Over the next week and a half, Gabe and Isabella work very hard at cleaning up the apartment. There are some things that just can't be fixed, like the leaking corner in the bathroom or most of the kitchen cabinets which are rotting out.

  Gabe insists that the place looked like this when he moved in, but Isabella tends to think that he's just not much of a housekeeper. Granted, Isabella isn't either. She's never had to do much cleaning.

  There's always been someone around to do this for her. And yet, it's not frustrating. It's actually refreshing, being able to do something like this all for herself. They scrub floors, bag up trash, and do laundry. They watch the television and curl up on the couch.

 
; And then, one day, Gabe picks Isabella up off the floor and looks her straight in the eye. “I should have done this sooner, and I'm sorry that I haven't yet. Isabella, I have something that I wanted to ask you. I mean, I've already asked you this, but I wanted to ask you this again, properly this time.”

  Isabella laughs. “What are you going on about, Gabe?”

  Gabe presses a kiss to Isabella's cheek, then he sinks down onto one knee. “Just give me a minute. I'm not good at this sort of thing.” Gabe's palms are sweaty. He wipes them off on the front of his slacks and slips a hand in his pocket. Fingers curl around the small, dark red box. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

  “You mean when I came storming into that bar? I sure do. I wanted to piss off my mother, and I wanted a chance at freedom. And then you came over to my table and swept me right off my feet.”

  “Right. I thought you were the prettiest girl that I'd ever seen. I still do. Every time I look at you, it's like that first meeting all over again. You make me feel more than alive, like there's nothing in this world that could ever slow me down.” Gabe keeps his fingers resting on the box, even as he looks up at Isabella with the most serious sort of smile on his face.

  Gabe takes hold of one of Isabella's hands. “You make me so happy. I feel like anything can happen when we're together, like everything can happen. This isn't...this might not be the proposal that you were expecting, but I hope like hell you don't hate what I'm about to ask.”

  “Holy shit,” breathes Isabella, her free hand flying up to cover her mouth. There are tears forming in her wide, wet eyes. “Gabe?”

  “Isabella, your parents are missing out on so much. You are my love, my princess, and my queen. Will you do me the honor of being one more thing?” Gabe lets go of Isabella's hand in favor of pulling the box out. He holds it up so she can see it, then pops off the top.

  The ring isn't the most expensive thing. It's nothing compared to the diamond on Alexandra's hand or the precious gems that litter all of Isabella's grandmother's fingers. Still, it's undeniably beautiful. Small lines have been etched into the body of the ring, and a small, pale pink stone rests on either side of the center diamond.

  Gabe feels like he's about to choke on his own words. His heart tries to escape from his chest, pounding like the drums of war. He's faced down countless perils as the leader of a motorcycle club, but this feels like one of the most difficult challenges that he's ever faced. “Will you marry me?”

  The silence that stretches out in the following moments is crushing. Gabe can almost feel the seconds ticking past. He stays there, silent, waiting, and then Isabella all but throws herself onto the ground, wraps her arms around Gabe's neck and sobs out, “Yes!”

  Gabe laughs. “I was hoping you would say that! I know this might have seemed a little bit strange, but I wanted to make sure that I asked you properly. A girl like you deserves for everything to be done properly.”

  “A girl like me,” laughs Isabella. She buries her face against the side of Gabe's neck. Her fingers curl in his t-shirt. It's stained and dirty, but she loves it all the same. He smells like leather and cheap, dollar store cologne. “You make me feel so special!”

  “You are special!”

  “Princesses are a dime a dozen.”

  “You aren't like those other girls,” insists Gabe. “You aren't like anyone else in the world. Isabella, I'm so glad that you came back here with me. I'm so glad that you want to marry me.”

  And then he stands up, picks her up, and presses her against the wall. Isabella drops her ring. It clatters onto the floor. The ring vanishes from sight when Gabe captures her mouth in a breathless sort of kiss, one that's all teeth and tongue. Gabe laps at the roof of her mouth, the sides of her cheeks, sucks on her lower lip, and kisses her until they're both gasping for breath.

  “I love you,” he says between gasps for air. “I love you so damn much.”

  “Show me?” Isabella wraps her arms around Gabe's neck.

  Gabe laughs. “Right now? With this baby so far along, I don't know if that's the best idea.”

  Isabella tries hard not to wilt. “Can't we do something?”

  “Fuck, you can be so slutty. Yeah, sweet cheeks, we can do something. I mean, you can do something.” Gabe is grinning when he sets Isabella back down. “If you know what I mean?”

  Isabella laughs. Her cheeks are flushed. She most certainly does know what he means.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  There was a time, not too long ago, when Isabella had no idea what she was supposed to do when it came to things of an intimate nature. However, Gabe is a very good teacher, and Isabella is very quick at learning.

  She lets the man lead her through the apartment to the bedroom. It's hardly the first time that they've messed around. But this—this seems more intimate. The ring is still laying in the middle of the living area floor, and Isabella can't wait to put it on.

  Right now, though, Isabella has a better task in mind.

  Gabe sits down at the edge of the bed. He makes short work of his boxers and his jeans. Then he spreads his legs, putting his full-fledged erection on display. He's thick and long but not unbearably so.

  To Isabella, it's an amazing thing. Just being able to get so close to Gabe, being able to touch him like this enthralls her. She settles down onto her knees between his legs, hands resting lightly on his thighs. They ghost over his skin, these soft and tender things.

  “Don't bother with that,” says Gabe. “You know there's no point in it. We're here for something else, sweet cheeks.”

  Isabella gives a laugh, one that's high and floating. She asks him, “Oh, are we?”

  “Don't keep me waiting.” Gabe punctuates his words by tugging on Isabella's soft, golden hair. “You brought this up, girl. Now I'm waiting.”

  “I don't want to keep you waiting,” says Isabella lightly. She takes Gabe's cock in hand, giving it a few slow, dry pumps.

  He warns, “Izzy, knock it off. Don't make me…”

  “Make you what?” There's a challenging glint in Isabella's eyes. “Don't make you what?”

  “Don't make me do this,” says Gabe, right before he takes hold of Isabella's soft hair and pushes her head between his legs. She opens her mouth willingly, letting him use her as he pleases. It's not gentle—they've done that before, the soft and slow thing, the tender and mild touches.

  But this, this is different. This is something else entirely, and it's something that Isabella completely loves. She gives herself over to him, body mind and soul, and she thinks about the silver anklet that still clings to her ankle.

  His.

  That's what it said.

  That's what it still says, and it's what Isabella knows it will always say.

  His cock is large. It makes her gag; the sensation burns, but it's comfortably filling all the same. She grabs at his legs, and she leans into the action; she opens her mouth up so wide that it hurts her jaws. Gabe fucks her mouth like something has come unhinged inside of him. It's a raw and visceral thing—something between two animals, desperate to get some form of release.

  Isabella gags. Spit runs down her chin. Tears burn her eyes. But when it's all said and down, this is exactly what she wants. This is exactly what she's always going to want.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Two months later, when Isabella steps into the bar, she's met with the trills of an overwrought wedding march. Gabe has a very large family, even though none of them are related by blood, and it seems as though they’ve all arrived for this special day.

  Most of them are members of the Desperados. A few are simply long-time friends. They stand up when Isabella steps inside wearing her pale green dress and dark green heels. The way they look at her makes her heart flutter, like she's some sort of prize or like she's something worth protecting.

  Bethy walks down the makeshift aisle in front of her wearing a gown of the palest blue. She tosses handfuls of rose petals onto the floor, smiling like this is her weddi
ng day. Bethy finishes her walk and takes her place by the chaplain.

  There are no parents here, no photographers, just a bunch of bikers and bar patrons. One of the cruder members of the Desperados pinches Isabella's rear when she walks past him. “You be good to that boy, you hear me? He deserves a nice, wet girl tonight. Best be ready to open those legs up good and wide for him, Princess.”

  Isabella blushes, hard. Even though she's pregnant, they've agreed to have one last tryst. The lewd comments have been coming all night, though this is the first time anyone has said them to her directly.