The President

by Archer, Addy

  Gently cleaning her pussy, there’s a weird feeling of satisfaction as I wipe her clean and see the red smear on the white washcloth. Possessiveness is the sweetest of things when you realize the one thing that rouses unexplained emotions inside your body was truly yours for the first of many times.

  I swallow at the raw emotions building in my throat as I make my escape into the bathroom to clean myself up. My hard length is also stained with her virgin blood. I might be a sick bastard because all I can do is stare to imprint this visual on my brain. Where repulsion of the thought of having blood land on my cock was where I started my day, this is now the best damn thing I’m seeing.

  Throwing the washcloth in the hamper, I stroll back into the room and find her perched on her elbows watching me. Placing a knee on the bed, I crawl on top of her and wait for her to object, but she doesn’t. Instead she reaches out and slides her arms around me, gently letting her fingertips feather over my back.

  I hover over her and stare into her eyes as if I might find the answer as to why I’m so drawn to her. Those beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones, and wavy brown hair are all damn tempting. Her deliciously full lips and the feel of them against mine is magical. But it’s her feisty character that draws me in. Not to mention, she had the chance to slice my neck but didn’t. Even with the shit she saw me do—and what she went through—she clearly deemed me safe.

  My mouth finds hers, and the both of us get lost in a tender and intense kiss. It’s surprising how my cock is pressing against her belly—hard as hell—but I can ignore it to enjoy this intimate moment. I never thought I’d put kissing before fucking, but I guess this woman makes me change my asshole ways, and I’m reaping all the benefits.

  Maybe not, because she’s grinding herself against me and squirms underneath me from our kiss. I pull back and, without a word, slowly maneuver down her body. She has her eyes pinned on me as I lick and suck my way down until I reach her bare pussy. That’s where I break the connection because I have to admire the place that made my cock instantly come.

  My tongue spears her pussy, and I release a loud groan when her taste hits my tongue. I want to pull back and admire her, but both her hands keep my head pinned in place. I have no time to smile with my mouth being busy and all, but my chest tightens instead. Damn this woman.

  I take my time licking and sucking every fucking inch to tease and taunt her until she’s actually growling and trying to guide my head where she wants me. I give in and cover her clit and start my assault. My teeth graze her nerve bomb, and she explodes into my mouth. Magnificent. Her head falls back as she lets her body surrender to the pleasure, and my name flows through the room—a plea, a statement, a fucking vow she belongs to me.

  Damn.

  I’m completely enthralled, and I haven’t even had my fill yet. But I’m pretty sure I’ll never get enough when it comes to this woman. Thank fuck she belongs to me, and only me. And I’ll make sure it stays that way.

  C H A P T E R S I X

  ~ ANGIE ~

  “No, no. Don’t touch it, Linc. Here, let me.” I manage to take over just in time to prevent Linc from making coffee.

  I swear every time that prospect makes coffee, I end up with heartburn. These last two weeks being locked up inside this clubhouse has given me the opportunity to get to know all the bikers of Rebel Rage MC. I’d like to say I also know how things around here work, but other than the coffee machine, I have no clue. Mainly because all they say about anything I ask is the standard reply of “club business.”

  Weirdly enough, I don’t even care. I should, but it’s as if I’m on vacation. Everything is cared for, and if I get a call about a job that needs fixing, Alaric sends men with me to guard me. They end up doing all the heavy lifting as I basically just supervise. Like I said, vacation. I even dare to say I’m being pampered. This is absolutely not what I expected when I was dragged into this clubhouse two weeks ago and thrown into a dark room in the basement.

  Alaric has been... how shall I put it? Obsessive? I wouldn’t say caring, or nice for that matter. It’s more like when he stalks into a room where I am, he strolls right up, kisses me fiercely, and if we haven’t had sex recently, he drags me off to do just that. As I mentioned, it’s as if I’m his obsession, possession, whatever.

  I’m not complaining. The sex is amazing, and when we’re between the sheets—or up against the wall for that matter—it’s as if he’s placing me on a pedestal and puts me first with everything. The only thing I dislike are the women who come into the clubhouse and act like they own the damn place, and the bikers along with it.

  I’ve seen Alaric grab a few by the throat as a warning if they put their hands on him, and even then my jealousy flares. I try to act indifferent, but it’s hard to see and know some of these women have been with him. But he does stick by his word; he’s faithful. I’ve also witnessed him punching a biker called Neo right in the face because he was checking out my ass.

  Okay, I have to admit, that sure did something to me. I have no clue what this thing between us is or how my future looks, but if it keeps flowing the way it has been for the last few weeks, I sure could get used to this life. Well, I would like to get out of this clubhouse without supervision, and do something fun and normal, but they’re still dealing with the whole Romero situation.

  From what I’ve heard, Romero is working with others who are supplying him the coke he sells. So, Rebel Rage MC can’t simply take Romero out because it will backfire and the club will take a lot of heat.

  How do I know all these details? Thin walls and bikers who are oblivious to me wandering around here. I’m the only old lady, and it’s like a bachelor pad. Beer. Parties. Women. Loud talks and lots of gossip. Oh, and let’s not forget what an incredible mess from time to time.

  Hunt is the only one—along with me and Linc—who does some cleaning every now and then but he’s not here all the time. Alaric mentioned he has a house down the road. But Linc sometimes likes to help. He’s a prospect. Though, I’ve heard he’s been one for quite some time now. He’s young, even younger than I am.

  Linc is leaner where the rest are buff and all pumped with muscles. I’ve seen Alaric, Hunt, and Linc work out together. They have this huge gym attached to the clubhouse. Linc has this chain he wears around his neck when he’s running on the treadmill.

  Alaric mentioned it’s for the extra weight, but he also mentioned Linc is his road name. They gave it to him because he always has a chain handy, for fights and such. When Alaric spills these kind of things, I just blink slowly and nod, switching topics right after.

  Sometimes knowing everything isn’t nice at all, but I do appreciate Alaric sharing these things. But I’d like to keep Linc’s visual as a cute boy instead of a streetfighter who smacks his opponent with a chain to the face. Right. I was making coffee and should really clear my head and focus on the task at hand.

  “I’m going to be late again,” Hunt growls as he steps inside the kitchen.

  My eyes bulge when I see he’s carrying what appears to be a five, maybe six-year-old girl underneath his arm as if he’s carrying a roll of carpet he just bought.

  “Hunt?” I gasp. “Where did you find her? Put her down right now.”

  “I didn’t find her. She found me. Or rather, she was shoved into my hands as a newborn six years ago when my ex decided she didn’t want to be a mother. But look.” He spins the little girl out from under his arm and puts her on her feet in front of him. “I did good up till now, don’t you think? Except for the fact I’m gonna be late dropping her off at school again. The damn babysitter I hired quit. A-fucking-gain.”

  I take a deep breath to process these new details. If someone told me Hunt was a single dad raising his daughter alone, I would have laughed in their face. He is so not the type to be a dad. Ugh. Hello, judgment. And when I look at the tiny girl with the same eyes as her father and the face of an angel merged with a hint of devil by the gleam in her eyes, I have to agree with Hunt. He did good.r />
  “Why haven’t I met her till now? And why didn’t you drop her off at school yourself instead of stopping here?” I question.

  The girl steps closer to me. “Daddy says this isn’t a place for young ladies. But today he said we could go because you would be here and could maybe help. Daddy forgot to buy bread, and I don’t have anything for lunch.”

  My mind is working hard to think of a way to solve this, but like I mentioned, this place is like a bachelor pad. If she’d needed beer, there would be loads. Food? Leftover pizza, maybe. Wait. Alaric bought some stuff for me I keep in my room.

  I squat down and hold out my hand. “Hey. I’m Angie, and I have crackers and a few apples in my room. Would you like me to go get them so you can bring those to school with you?”

  “Fruit, of fucking course,” Hunt mutters.

  I shoot him a glare for cursing, but I guess it’s his kid, and I’m sure with the mouth on him, it’s not the first time he’s cursed around her.

  “My name is Dead Skunk, do you have a road name?” the little girl says, making Hunt groan.

  I fight a smile and tell her, “That’s a pretty badass name. And I don’t know about the road name thing, but I do have a nickname. People call me the queen fixer. But for friends like you, it’s just Angie.”

  “Just Angie for friends? I like new friends. I have a few friends. One always looks after me when I’m at school and when Daddy is late. She has a road name too. I gave it to her. I call her PeyPey Potato.” She shoots me a grin as I snort out a laugh before she continues. “But the teacher calls us by our normal name. Mine is Raven. I guess we can stick to our normal names because we’re girls and not dudes like Daddy’s brothers.”

  “Fuck. Teacher. We have to go. Can you get the apples for me, Angie?” Hunt asks, and it makes me dash off to get them.

  When I rush back, I have two apples and some crackers that Hunt puts into her lunchbox. We say our goodbyes as they head for Hunt’s truck. Two bikers follow them as they drive off. I keep waving at Raven who’s furiously fluttering her tiny hand in the air at me until I can’t see her anymore.

  “Get away from the window,” Alaric growls from behind me.

  I roll my eyes as I face him. “It’s been two weeks, and I hardly think Romero is going to come here and shoot up the place.” My heart starts to pound when I see Alaric wince. “What changed?” I whisper, instantly worried by his reaction.

  He rubs a hand down his face and sighs. “Last night he reached out, demanding we pay twenty thousand dollars for a debt Xandra had and the income he’s missing out on because she’s dead. I told him to go fuck the whores he still has since he’ll be dead himself soon enough.”

  “That’s why Hunt had two guys tagging along,” I muse.

  Alaric’s face turns grim. “Yeah, we’re on semi lockdown.”

  Semi lockdown. My mind flips to the situation Hunt had a few minutes ago. “Then you should make some guys go shopping because we’ll all starve otherwise.”

  “No need. We’re going to handle Romero within a few hours. I’m waiting for Hunt to come back.” Alaric shifts in place and drags a hand through his hair.

  I understand it’s hard to give me information, but it’s also something we need to explore between us. Obviously, I’m not one who is shocked or breaks easily, and I understand how things work in his world. Well, maybe not his world but those who I’ve encountered and cleaned up for.

  To make sure he knows I appreciate his honesty and to set him at ease, I offer, “Need my help cleaning up?”

  The easy smile spreading his face and the flash of his dimple is what I was going for. I reach out and cup the side of his face to let my thumb trace his dimple.

  “That’s sexy,” I whisper, mainly to myself.

  His arm wraps around my waist, and he pulls me flush against his body.

  “Yeah?” he murmurs. “Just a little dip in skin is sexy, huh? Not all the hours I’ve spent in the gym sculpting my body? Or the hours enduring needles with all the ink covering these muscles.”

  I let my nails trail over his biceps, knowing how much I affect him when I touch him like this. Within a short timespan we’ve managed to get to know each other’s bodies flawlessly. This thing between us might have started off as an awkward deal when we were thrown in a situation due to my stepsister, but each day I’ve come to realize how my life changed for the better.

  Less stress for one, and my workload has shifted. I’m still getting my pay while I don’t have to be the one doing all the heavy lifting. And the sex. Amazing sex. Not to mention, I have a whole bunch of new friends. Well, I consider Hunt a friend but I won’t call him that to his face. Or maybe I should with the whole horrified look from his biker buddies when I tell them he’s my bestie.

  Linc is cute. Neo is kinda freaky. Brewer is okay I guess. But then I remember Myk, and I remind myself that people aren’t always the way they appear. My stepmother and stepsister treated me nice for the first few weeks too, until my father moved them into our house and they had their hooks into him. You can say I’m waiting for the ball to drop because things are just too good.

  “Pres, can I have a word?” a biker I know as Dog interrupts us.

  Alaric doesn’t give him his full attention and instead keeps me in his arms when he answers, “Spill, Dog. I’m kinda busy here.”

  “Neo’s bike broke down about an hour away from here. I need Linc to pick him and the bike up. I would do it myself, but I’m keeping watch.” Dog stops for a moment and eyes me. I’m pretty sure he swallowed a few words he doesn’t want me to hear because he adds, “I’m busy with that job you put me on.”

  Remembering the routine of the day, I speak before thinking. “Linc is probably on the treadmill sweating his ass off. Brewer is in the game room, ready to go. You should probably ask him if you need to speed this up.”

  I feel Alaric’s lips on the top of my head before he tells Dog, “You heard my old lady, set things in motion. I need a full table when Hunt gets back here. But you can drag Linc off the treadmill so he can take over for you. I don’t want Brewer out alone; you need to go with him.”

  Dog heads toward the back to do as he’s told. I’m still in Alaric’s embrace, and though he’s been possessive over these last two weeks, I wouldn’t call him affectionate. But the tiny kiss on the top of my head just now? It warmed my chest. Silly to think feelings would slide in and let our settlement turn into a real relationship.

  I guess I just need to remind myself these moments should be treasured, but not overthought. Overthinking creates dilemmas and unreachable goals. Keep it close and keep it tiny, so it won’t blow up in my face. Wow. Always the realist and, damn, way to kill the mood.

  “I guess you have things to do. I’m going to find myself a new book to read while you guys handle everything. When Romero is dead and gone, I don’t have to be kept locked away in here, right? Away with the lock and key thing, hello freedom.”

  The whole “kill the mood” thing? It seems to be on repeat because Alaric freezes up and steps away from me. I swear he mutters something along the lines of “Maybe I should have kept you in the damn basement” as he stalks off.

  “Now hang on a sec,” I snap, agitated.

  He doesn’t turn around. Instead, he just bellows over his shoulder as he stalks into church. “I don’t have the fucking time to either listen to you or entertain your pussy. So, sit your ass down and read your damn book for all I care.”

  Dog, Linc, Brewer, and some of the others all stare at us. Well, mainly at me, making me feel even smaller under their scrutinizing gaze. As if I’m a whiny bitch who needed to be put in my place. And the whole “entertain your pussy” statement? I don’t want to let my thoughts roll over that one. My feelings have been shoved underneath his boot while he twisted his full weight on it.

  I swallow hard and head for Alaric’s room. Linc reaches out to me, but I shake my head and slip by him. I can’t talk or face anyone, if I do, I’d break down and cry. I g
uess waiting for the ball to drop didn’t take too long anyway. I really hate people.

  I shut the door behind me and try to leave all my anger, frustration, defeat, hurt, and freaking pain stabbing through my chest behind me. As if I could. Why do I even try to open up or, hell, think this deal we made might give us a start to build something up in the lines of a true relationship.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. The only person I’ve ever been able to trust is myself. A harsh reality, but there you go. And I know it had something to do with my statement about the whole “behind lock and key” thing.

  But isn’t it the cold, hard truth? Hello freedom? I’ve been in this place since I was brought here with my hands tied behind my freaking back. The only time I get out is when I’m escorted in a van to do my job along with guards and then it’s straight back to semi lockdown.

  Who can blame me for being glad that Romero and the danger he presents is being taken care of? It’s a problem solved. I’ll be able to go out and do some shopping myself or whatever I’d like to do. Alone. With Alaric. Whatever.

  Wait.

  Does he think I’d leave and not return to him? That would be weird. Both the leaving and the not returning. Could he really think I’d do just that? Turn my back and never look back on the good things in life this man has showed me in the short time we’ve been together?

  I doubt this man has any feelings toward me; it’s the whole property thing. I’m his and should be here at his beck and call to entertain his cock instead of him entertaining my pussy. His words, not mine, and now I’m even more confused.

  I bury my head into the pillow and scream out my frustrations. I feel as helpless as the muted cries that pour out of me. Anger flares up, and I grab the pillow with both hands, turn on the bed, and I swing the thing through the room. A scream rips from my throat when I shockingly watch Alaric catch it with ease.