by Nicole Fox
“Well,” asked Spider, “let’s hear it.”
But before Anya could answer, I burst from the bushes, knife in hand. The men only had enough time to notice that I was rushing towards them before I attacked. I drove the knife into the stomach of one of the men, twisting it before pulling it out and stabbing the next. The two men collapsed, and I grabbed the pistol from the one closet to me.
“What the fuck!” shouted Spider. “It’s him!”
The other two men prepared to move in, but I trained the gun on one and fired a round before taking out the other two with a pair of quick shots. All four men were down, Spider being the only one still standing.
With the men laid out around us, only I, Anya, and Spider remained.
“Yo, yo, yo,” said Spider, holding up his hands in the air in surrender. “I give up, all right? I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
His voice had a whimpering tone that made me sick. Figured that a little shit like him would be all talk when he wasn’t surrounded by his men.
“You tell me what the fuck is going on with Donny, and I might let you live,” I said, the gun still pointed at him.
“Fine, fine! Um, it’s Donny, like I said. He wants you out; he thinks you ain’t shit, you know? Thinks you’re only where you are ’cuz you a daddy’s boy. So, he set you up. I owed him some favors, and he called one in. I said I’d take you out. Thought it’d be easy-peasy, you know?”
“You thought wrong,” I said.
“Yeah, no shit. But you gotta know that he knows what’s up. I told Donny that you and this bitch Anya—”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sorry, sorry. You and this girl Anya are in cahoots or whatever. He knows everything. And he ain’t gonna stop at nothing until you’re dead. And I don’t got high hopes for the girl to make it out in good shape, neither.”
“Then it’s him or me,” I said.
“That’s right,” said Spider. “You best get a plan put together, or you’re gonna be fucked when Donny finds out what you done. Word to the wise, you know?”
A moment passed as I tried to figure out what to do next.
“So, you gonna let me go, or what?” asked Spider. “Come on, man- I’ll stay out of your way.”
I trusted this little fuck just about as far as I could throw him, but I was a man of my word.
“Fine, get the fuck out of here. And take the rest of those assholes with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, let me call them off.”
He slipped his phone out of pocket and told the goons at the house to leave the brothers alone.
“See? I’m a good guy,” he said.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said.
He ran off, saying “thank you, thank you,” over and over as he disappeared.
Then it was just me and Anya. She was lying by the car, tears streaking her face, her hands bound behind her.
“We’ll figure this out later,” I said, looking at the handcuffs.
She nodded, unable to say anything else. Scooping her up, I threw her over my shoulder and backtracked to my bike. I slipped between her arms, making sure that she was in place before gunning the engine and peeling off down the road.
This just keeps getting worse and worse, I thought, the wind whipping through my hair. And who knows if we’ll make it out alive.
Chapter Twelve
Anya
I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. I had known that Bryce was dangerous, that he was almost certainly the type to commit acts of violence; deep down, I had known the type of man he was.
But to see it, to see up close the sort of brutality that I’d only seen in sanitized forms on TV on in the movies … I didn’t know how to handle it. As we drove down the road on Bryce’s motorcycle, the thing that struck me most about what had just happened was the speed. It had all happened within what seemed like no more than five seconds. One moment the men were on their feet and prepared to fight, the next they were on the ground, dead or dying. Bryce had killed them with unbelievable skill; I knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell that these were the first lives he’d taken.
The bike roared down the highway. Where we were headed, I didn’t know.
“How you holding up?” asked Bryce, yelling over the engine and the wind.
I didn’t know how to respond. Physically, I was fine; Bryce had gotten to me before the men had had a chance to do anything. Mentally, I was shaken up. I didn’t know how to feel about this man. Was it possible that the man who I’d thought was going to protect me was just as dangerous as the men who wanted to hurt us?
All I could do was nod.
And what was worse, what was the hardest to deal with of all, was just how turned on I was. Sitting on the back of that bike, my bound arms wrapped around his neck, the smell of his sweat drifting up into my nose … it was more than I could bear. I knew that running as far away as possible was how I should react to men like Bryce. After all, he was a killer.
Killer.
The word hung in my mind. It was a dangerous word, a forbidden word. Men like him, men who resorted to violence, men who got what they needed through force and daring, well, they were the exact types that I’d always thought I should avoid. Nice men, safe men—those were the ones I should want.
But knowing what I knew about Bryce, knowing he was willing to go to such lengths to keep me safe … it aroused something in me, a sort of attraction that was deep, deep inside, as though speaking to a part of me that existed in some animalistic part of my mind.
I pulled him close as we rode, pressing my body against his.
“Pull over,” I whispered into his ear.
“What?” he yelled. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
“We gotta put as much distance between us and them as possible!”
“It’s an emergency!” I said, raising my voice.
“Well, hold your goddamn horses for just a few minutes! We’re almost there!”
Bryce gunned the engine, the bike now tearing down the road even faster than before. I never thought I’d ever be on the back of a motorcycle, but now that I was, I couldn’t get enough. Something about the speed, the wind, and … the vibrations … I loved it. I’d never want to drive one myself; it was enough to know that I was in good hands with a man like Bryce.
We drove on for a few more minutes, getting closer and closer to Atlanta. We eventually pulled off in some outer suburb of the city and drove through a series of housing divisions and office parks, eventually arriving at a nondescript apartment complex. Bryce pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine.
By the time we were there, I was about to go crazy with desire.
He propped the bike in place and stood up, reaching around to grab my legs, my arms still wrapped around his neck. I loved being carried by him; I wanted to just nuzzle my face into his neck and never let go. We entered the building through a side door, ascended a few flights of stairs, and entered one of the units. Looking around, it was a nice, but a very nondescript apartment. There were off-white walls, oak floors, a nice view of a nearby park.
Bryce walked me to the bedroom and tossed me onto it. I just couldn’t get enough of the way he could handle me with such ease.
“Come here,” I said, lying on my back and looking up at him as he stood over me.
“Hold on,” he said, preparing to leave the room. “I’ve gotta find something for those cuffs.”
“No,” I said, lowing my voice, letting the words drip out like honey. “I want them on. Just for a little while.”
He got the message, loud and clear.
“Wouldn’t think that was what you’d be in the mood for after what you’d been through,” he said, pulling off his shirt and revealing the body that I couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“Me either,” I said. “But you’re going to have to help me out.”
“Say no more,” he said.
With that, he climbed onto the bed, looking me over with a hungry gaze, the hazel of h
is gorgeous eyes bright and clear. Grabbing me by the hips, he flipped me over, my ass sticking up into the air. Taking hold of my wrists, he pulled me towards one of the bedposts and put my wrists over it. Now I was on my knees, looking forward at the wall.
I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. I was at his mercy.
He slapped his hands onto my hips, the impact hard through the skin-tight denim of my jeans. I could hear him take slow breaths through his nostrils like some kind of bull. He was like a beast, and I wanted nothing more than for him to do with me whatever he wanted.
“You’re … not the kind of girl I thought you were,” he said, reaching below me and undoing the button of my jeans.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “And what kind of girl did you think I was?”
“A good girl,” he said, undoing his own pants.
“Well, good girls can’t be good all the time,” I said.
I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth; it was like someone else was speaking. I didn’t know what to think of this part of me that was so eager to come out to play.
He grabbed me by the hips again, holding me in place. I turned my head to watch him, but he quickly grabbed my head and turned it back forward.
“No looking,” he said. “You’re mine, and you don’t make a move without my say-so.”
That was exactly what I wanted to hear. A broad, sensual smile formed on my face as he grabbed onto the soft curves of my hips. I felt a pressure on my sex which I realized was him placing his cock right at the opening of my pussy. I squirmed in place, sticking my ass out towards him, beckoning him with my body to fuck me hard.
And he was happy to do just that.
With a slow thrust, he shoved his cock into me, the feeling of him entering me pushing all the air out of my lungs. It was, just as before, almost too much. But this time, instead of starting off slowly, entering me with deep, measured thrusts, he shoved himself into me as deep as his long, thick cock would allow. And as soon as he was in, he began to buck hard into me, holding me in place by my hips and pounding me like I’ve never been pounded before.
I began moaning straight away, the bedroom filling with the sounds of my pleasure. It was already almost more than I could bear. I braced myself against the post in front of me, grabbing onto it with my bound hands. Bryce’s hands held me firm in place, a broad smile forming on my face as he rammed into me over and over.
It was strange; I’d never had sex like this before. I’d always been mostly a vanilla, missionary-and-occasional-on-top type of girl, but something about being tied up, having all the power taken from me, being completely under the thumb of a man like Bryce … it was beyond arousing. I wanted to give all of my control to him, to be nothing but a plaything in his hands.
Again and again he plunged deep into me, his long cock filling me over and over.
“Slap me,” I said, pressing my ass against his body.
I didn’t know what had come over me; the words just seemed to slip out of my mouth. As soon as Bryce’s hand came down upon my right cheek, I knew it was too late to take it back, even if I wanted to—and I most definitely didn’t want to.
His hand cracked against my ass, the sharp sound cutting through the air of the room, the stinging of his hand on my rear shooting through my body in tight waves. The pain mixed with the pleasure, and I wanted more and more.
“Again,” I said, my voice heavy.
Bryce slapped my ass again, the other cheek this time. My body lurched forward with the impact and I pressed myself against the post.
“Again.”
But this time there was no spank.
Still fucking me, still working his cock in and out of me, Bryce spoke.
“You want me to spank you again, you’re going to have to beg for it.”
A sly smile formed on my lips.
“Please,” I said.
“Not good enough.”
Bryce continued to pound me, the pleasure building tighter and tighter.
“Please spank me,” I said, more voice pleading.
“I don’t believe you really want it,” he said.
Finally, I let go of all of my inhibitions and allowed myself to truly beg for what I wanted.
“Please slap my ass,” I said. “I need it so goddamn bad.”
With that, he brought his hand down on my right cheek and connected hard, the strike ringing out against the already tender skin.
And that was just what it took. The feeling of his firm hand against my ass was just what I needed to cum. The orgasm moved through my body in hot pulses, moans escaping my lips as the pleasure weakened my limps, my body collapsing against the bed post. Bryce continued to drive into me, the sounds emanating from his mouth signaling that he was close himself. The pulses of the orgasm overwhelmed me; I felt as though I was turning into nothing more than soft putty. My moans were muffled by the pillow that my face was pressed into, and I could hardly stand the pleasure that rampaged through my body.
Bryce came soon after, pulling his cock out of me and unloading himself on my ass, draining himself onto my ass. His cum landed on my sweaty skin with hot spurts, and I took sweet pleasure at this; it made me feel as though he were claiming me, marking his territory.
Soon after, he collapsed on top of me. The two of us lay there for a time, our bodies a hot, sensual mess of passion as we caught our breath.
I’d never been fucked like that before, and lying there I knew that something had been awakened in me. I’d need more, and it seemed like Bryce was the only man who could give it to me.
Chapter Thirteen
Bryce
“Quite a place you got here,” said Anya, her eyes flicking around the room.
“What, you want a five-star downtown?” I asked.
She flashed me a smile, that toothy little look that I already couldn’t get enough of.
“No … I just figured a guy like you would have a place that was a little more … rough.”
“What, like I’d be living in a garage? Sleeping under an old car?”
“No, no,” she said, laughing.
“Using empty gas cans for pillows?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, still catching her breath from the amazing sex we’d just had.
“It’s a safe house,” I said. “Just a place that I have outside of town where I can go if things get dicey.”
A concerned, worried expression formed on Anya’s face.
“Do things get … dicey often?”
“From time to time,” I said. “But this situation … I don’t know. It’s something different.”
“How so?”
“I’m being targeted by a man in my own MC. Fuckin’ hard to believe; we’re supposed to be brothers, always looking out for one another. But he’s pissed my old man vouched for my membership.”
“Can’t your dad step in and put an end to all of this?”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “My dad’s gone. Hopped on his bike one day and drove off.”
“What?” she asked, surprised at this. “He just abandoned you?”
“That’s not the word I’d use,” I said. “When the old timers get to that age when they feel like they’re doing nothing more than being a burden, they’ll sometimes take off for greener pastures, you know? For all I know he’s lying on some beach in Mexico right now, a little mamacita on each arm while he’s sipping one of those drinks they serve to you in a pineapple.”
“I couldn’t imagine a parent just leaving like that; my brothers are all I’ve got.”
My jaw began to clench as she reminded me of the pair of lowlifes that she called her relations. Just from the little glimpses that I’d seen it was clear that they didn’t think of her as anything more than a maid that they didn’t have to pay. I wanted to head back to that house of hers on the outskirts of town and drive a fist into each of their ugly mugs.
“Something wrong?” Anya asked, my expression evidently not as hidden as I would’ve liked.
“Those brothers of yours …” I said, taking a deep draw of air in through my nostrils.
“I know, I know,” Anya said, turning away from me, as though caught in the act of doing something she shouldn’t.
“You can’t let them treat you like that,” I said, raising a finger towards her.
“I know they seem like assholes and they constantly order me around … but like I said, they’re the only family I’ve got. If it weren’t for them I’d be all alone.”
