Silver stops, holding his hands up as if to show some kind of innocence, or mercy. I’m not sure which, and I don’t care. The pain radiating up my arm and down my shoulder is beyond anything I’ve felt before, and I know his grip on my wrist is so tight that I’ll have bruising.
“You come into our territory, for what? This bitch? Her friend? What’s the deal?” he barks.
Silver’s eyes slice right through me, looking behind me then he avoids my gaze and meets the man holding me hostage. “She doesn’t know the rules. She’s not in the life,” he explains.
I feel my stomach clench from his words, and definitely not in a sexy way. Rules. The life. What does it all mean? This club isn’t just some place they hang out for beers after work, their patches aren’t like boy scout ones, this is something bigger than I thought. This is scary.
“Seems she might need some education then,” he sneers in my ear, his dick pressing against the crack of my ass.
I watch as the man whose vest deems him as president walks forward, Dragon I think was his name. “Let the girls go. Your shit ain’t with them, it’s with us. Silver said his woman was ignorant to the life. Don’t be a dick, you’re scarin’ the girl,” he coolly attempts to bargain.
“She ain’t anyone’s woman. Not claimed as far as I can tell, unless she got a mark somewhere I can’t see just by lookin’ at her the way she is. Maybe she’s wearing Savage Beast panties, maybe we should check that out,” he booms, his laughter taking over the room.
I hear a click, my now watery eyes turning toward the noise and the bar is suddenly draped in silence. “You’re right. She ain’t marked or claimed, except by my dick. You want to let what’s mine, go? You don’t, that’s cool, you’ll just die instead,” Silver shrugs, holding a gun out, and pointing it directly in front of me.
“You mean to come on our territory and point a gun at me?” he sneers.
Silver snorts. “You’re twistin’ a woman’s arm so fuckin’ hard she’s in tears. So yeah, I’m here pointing a gun at you, because she’s a woman who means somethin’ to me.”
My breath hitches from his words. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t even give a single shit about what he’s said. But I do, because I’m a soft-hearted girl, one who really wanted to believe in the promise of Silver. The out of this world sex, the soft-spoken man who called me cariña, the seemingly caring father.
I wanted it all, every single part of it. Then he dashed all of that, and now here I am, in trouble and scared, and my heart is racing. I’m scared, but beyond that, I’m stupidly hopeful.
“Means something to you but she’s not claimed. I think I’d like to have a test run,” he chuckles. I struggle again, my fight or flight taking over and unable to be controlled. I’m panicking.
Silver doesn’t move his feet, but his torso leans over, and his voice drops to a dangerously low gravel. “Let her go. Now. I don’t give a fuck, ten of your brothers are at your back. I’ll drop you right here, right now.”
I can’t see the expression of the man’s face behind me, but something flashes in Silver’s that sends a chill down my spine. I watch in horror. He moves so fast, that if I blinked, I would have missed it. The hand holding the gun stays firm, but it’s the other that shifts and sticks the man at my back right in the side of his neck with a knife.
“Fuck. You,” he growls as the man’s grip behind me loosens and falls away. I cry out when my arm is finally released but my knees give out and I start to fall as well.
Silver lurches forward, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest.
There is noise that breaks out all around me, but I can’t hear anything. All I can do is stare up into his swirling dark eyes. “Fuck,” he bites out then he shifts me to his side and he lifts his hand before there’s a loud boom.
“Get them outta here,” Silver shouts, shoving me behind him. Hands wrap around my waist and tug me backward, and out of the bar.
Once we’re in the parking lot, I struggle against the man who has me until he has no choice but to let me go. Spinning around on my high heels, I almost lose my balance and fall to my ass. Lifting my gaze, I see a lean figure, he looks like the man who was following us. I blush, realizing that he is indeed the man who followed us earlier.
“What just happened in there?” I ask, my voice trembling. I feel my body start to shake as the adrenaline slowly starts to flow through me and leave, or maybe it’s filling my body. I’m not quite sure.
He runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes shifting to the side. “You did this, Est. You better educate your girl on the shit storm you just created,” he barks, pointing next to me.
I turn my head to see Esther standing there, seemingly completely unaffected by what’s happening in the bar behind us. “She fucked Silver, said she was done,” she shrugs.
The man snorts. “Bitch, you know my presence alone meant he had eyes on her, and he was not done with her. You shouldn’t have brought her out here, this right here, this could start a war,” he explains.
“None of this affects me. I came here to have fun. Dance, get some drinks, and maybe get laid,” she states. “Silver wants his snatch to himself, maybe he should tell her the score himself,” she snaps.
I open my mouth to protest. I’m nobody’s, snatch. I’m cut off before I begin when the men come jogging out of the bar. “Get on, I’m sure that owner called the rest of the club,” Silver shouts.
His hand grabs mine as he passes by and drags me over to a big black motorcycle. I watch as one of his long legs is thrown over the seat and the engine starts. He looks back at me before he shouts. “Get on.”
I shake my head, my eyes meeting his. “I don’t know how. I’ve never,” I yell.
“Throw your leg over, feet on the pegs, and hold the fuck on,” he explains.
Shakily, I do as he says and when I hold on. I wrap my arms around him, gripping onto his shirt with everything I have. I’m sure that the fabric of his tee is going to rip, but I don’t care. I press my cheek to his back, pinch my eyes closed and hold the hell on. The bike roars and lurches forward leaving a cloud of dust and gravel behind us.
We ride back toward our town, toward Arizona. I wonder offhandedly where Esther’s car is, if they let her drive or if they made her leave it there. I have a feeling if she left it there, she’ll never see it again. Those guys were pretty pissed, and Silver killed one of them.
Killed.
Dead.
Killed.
I start to panic. My breathing becomes short and I start to yell and hit Silver until he pulls over. The other bikes stop farther behind us, probably to give us privacy. As soon as the bike stops, I scramble off and I stare at him.
“You killed him,” I blurt.
He turns his head, his hair a windblown sexy mess. His eyes, they look deep, sinister, and black as they sparkle in the moonlit night. “I did. He’s not the first, he won’t be the last,” he calmly states.
“How can you be so calm? How can you say that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I take a step back.
He smirks, it doesn’t reach his eyes, but he finds my questions ridiculously comical I can tell. “You got no fuckin’ clue, cariña,” he mutters. He slowly swings his leg over his bike and takes a step toward me. “You got no fuckin’ clue who I am. It’s cute, but tonight could have got you raped, or killed. Not sure which one would be worse, not likin’ the fact that either could have happened, though.”
“Clue me in,” I hiss. “I’m so clueless, so clue me in,” I demand.
SILVER
I almost laugh when she demands that I clue her in. It’s cute as fuck. I won’t do that to her though, the wide-eyed innocent thing works for me. I like her just the way she is. That being said, I do need to educate her on the way shit is going to go from now on. We just possibly started a war with the Skulls, and that shit will leak over to the women of the club, it always does.
“You’re mine,” I announce.
She s
hakes her head. “I’m not. You’ve got Trista, whoever she is. You take off for a week after using me as a booty call. I’m not yours. Hell no,” she shouts.
I’m sure my brothers are getting a kick out of this right about now. A conversation on the side of the pitch black highway, one where she’s shoutin’ that she ain’t mine. I lean forward, not touching her because right now I don’t know whether to throttle or fuck her.
“You had my dick in you. You’re mine,” I grind out.
She snorts. “That all it takes? Then I’m not yours. I’m Blair McNaught’s since he’s the one who popped my cherry,” she snaps.
I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth together trying to catch my breath, to calm myself down before I do something that I’ll regret. “Presley,” I growl. “Don’t test me. I’m cluein’ you in. That means I’m explaining how this shit works. My dick’s in you, you’re mine until I decide I don’t want you anymore. That means you don’t dance with anyone else. You don’t flirt with anyone else. You certainly don’t fuck anyone else.”
She starts shaking her head, her eyes wide and suddenly full of fear. Her body starts to shake, and I know that adrenaline is beginning to crash. She’s going to be fucking useless soon. I take a step forward and she shakes her head even harder.
“I’m not yours. You just killed a man. No,” she gasps before she turns around and starts to run. I blink, unbelieving that she’s running into the dark, black, desert.
“Fuck, goddammit,” I shout, my feet moving quickly as I chase behind her.
I can hear my brothers laughing behind us, but I ignore them. I wrap my arm around her waist once I’ve caught up to her and as gently as I can, I take her down to the ground. She fights me, but I manage to shift her until she’s beneath me. She’s all arms and legs, wriggling and attempting to fight. Trapping her thighs together between my knees, I take her wrists and hold them down to her side.
Leaning forward, I bark in her face, “Stop.” She does, immediately, her breathing coming in short quick pants. Leaning down I press my lips against hers in a hard kiss. “You’re mine, Presley. Mine to fuck. Mine to spank. Fucking mine. Until I say you’re not anymore.”
She shakes her head, tears filling her eyes. I should feel badly, I should feel guilty, but I don’t. Not in the fucking slightest. I want her. I’m taking her. All of her. I may never let her go. I’ve never felt this way about another bitch in my entire life, I’m keeping her for as long as she makes me feel this way.
“I don’t know if I can be with a man who just killed someone, right in front of me, no remorse no nothing,” she whimpers.
Leaning down, I run my nose up the side of her jaw, until my lips are against her ear. “Cariña, you rather I let him rape you? Hurt you like that? He wanted to prove his dominance over me, and that’s how he was going to do it,” I murmur against her ear.
“Why?” she asks, her voice a bit huskier, obviously liking the way I’m talking to her.
I hum, keeping my voice gentle for her. “Because that’s the way of our world, mi vida. I couldn’t let him hurt you,” I admit.
Her breathing has calmed, so I release her wrists. She rewards me by placing her hands on my chest, and slides them up and around my neck. “I don’t know if I like your world, Silver,” she admits.
Moving my head, I press my lips against hers, but I don’t kiss her. I hold my mouth above her own, barely touching. “You never will, cariña. I’m a fucking bastard like that, I’m still keeping you.”
Tilting my head to the side, I fill her mouth with my tongue and I taste her. Fuck, I missed her taste, her scent, all of her.
“Get a room,” Dragon shouts while the other men whistle.
We both stop kissing. I lift my head and her face is red in the moonlight. “You okay to ride?” I ask.
She presses her lips together, her eyes shifting to the people who are laughing and carrying on, then shifts them back to me. “Yeah.”
“You’re in my bed tonight at the clubhouse,” I grunt, standing up, and extending a hand out to help her up.
She brushes the dirt and shit off of her body, her eyes moving to mine. “I am?”
I snort. “Fuck yeah, my bed, my cock,” I wink.
“What about Buster?”
My smirk dies, and I reach forward, cupping her cheek with my hand. She’s thought of my boy and that does something to me, it strikes a chord. “We’ll take him out for breakfast tomorrow. He’s asleep already, with Trista, my babysitter, hanging out with him,” I explain.
“Babysitter?” she asks, arching a brow.
I smirk, shaking my head. “Practically raised the girl. She helps me out for cash, and to get out of her mom’s house. Plus, she’s the only person I trust to stay with Buster for extended periods of time,” I shrug.
Presley hums, but she doesn’t say anything else. I’m sure she has something to say about it, but she’ll see. Trista is zero competition. I think of her as a daughter, nothing more. In fact, Presley has zero competition, at all. Never have I felt for anyone else what I feel for her, and I hardly know her. I don’t know what that means for the future, but fuck me, I want to find out.
Chapter Ten
PRESLEY
The bike pulls into the clubhouse parking lot, the others file in and park side-by-side. I look over to see Esther on the back of a motorcycle as well, answering the question of if her car was left behind or not. Esther’s gaze meets mine and she gives me a small smile. I can tell she’s upset, so I match her smile with one of my own.
I watch as she climbs off of the bike, the man at her side wraps his hand around her wrist and roughly jerks her forward. That must be Raff. I hope that whatever issues they have, they can work them out because I have a feeling she really does like him. I could tell by the way she talked, by the hurt in her eyes, this man means something to her.
“That’s their business, their shit. You steer clear,” Silver announces as I climb off of his bike.
Looking over to him, I frown. “I didn’t say a word.”
He chuckles, throwing his leg over the seat as well. “Cariña you didn’t have to. All you bitches do the same shit. She intervened with you and me, and you’re thinkin’ of doing the same with her and Wolfe. Don’t.”
I jerk back as if he’s slapped me. “Bitches. Can you please stop referring to me as a bitch? I wasn’t going to interfere in her life. I was going to maybe try to find out the rest of the story, there is a story there. Offer up some advice if I could, offer an ear if I couldn’t. Would you stop presuming you know everything about me?” I snap.
His brows raise toward his hairline. “Fuck. That sass, I’m not sure I need all that in my life,” he mutters.
Taking a step back, I snort. “You don’t have it. You don’t have to have it. Take me home,” I grind out.
“Jesus Cristo,” he growls.
Without warning, faster than a man his age should move, he bends, shoving his shoulder in my belly and lifts me over his shoulder. One of his arms wraps around my upper thighs. The other hand I assume is going to go around my knees, but it doesn’t, his hand lands heavy on my ass and I rear my head up with a scream.
“You just spanked me,” I inform his jean-clad ass.
He grunts. “One of many, prepare, mi vida,” he barks.
My breath whooshes out of me. Not only because I’m being bounced around over his shoulder, but because of his words, and what they insinuate. I should be fighting him more. I should be screaming and yelling, running and kneeing him in the junk. I should be doing a lot of things that I’m not.
My pussy is pulsing between my legs, it shouldn’t, but it’s begging to be touched. My ass is practically screaming to be spanked, and me? My heart? It’s squeezing and stupidly hoping that he’ll keep me. He walks us through the bar and I hide my face as I hear the men’s catcalls. The same men from earlier who saw me sprawled out on the dirty desert ground.
As soon as Silver walks into the familiar bedroom, my body goes flying
across the room and I land hard on his mattress. I’m unable to look anywhere but his face as he stalks to me. He removes his vest, hanging it on the knob of his closed door.
I watch, my mouth dry, as he reaches behind him with one hand, and tugs his shirt off over his head. I press my thighs together at the sight of his light brown tanned skin, the way his muscles ripple and move, and the dark black tattoos that cover his torso and arms. I can’t tell what they are, the designs, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to trace every inch of them with my tongue.
“You done fighting me?” he asks, his hands at the button of his pants.
Dragging my eyes from his hands to his face I frown. “Fighting you? I haven’t even heard from you in a week,” I point out.
He shakes his head, his long hair moving from side to side. “Work calls, I go. Work called,” he attempts to explain.
“Work called,” I repeat.
Inhaling a deep breath, I look up at him, studying his dark features. “What is this? You say your world, you say you were at work. You say I’m yours, or something like that, but what does all of it mean. What does it make us? I’ve never done this before, not like this,” I admit.
His eyes soften, and I watch as he pops the button of his jeans, and pushes them down his thighs. He kicks them off along with his boots and socks. Standing in only his underwear, he closes the short distance between us. I’m forced to widen my legs as he continues forward, his hips fitting between them, his hands immediately grabbing onto the outsides of my thighs.
“I’m not like the other men you’ve been with. I won’t take you on dates. I won’t bring you flowers. It ain’t me, cariña. I’ll fuck you until you scream, it’ll be dirty, and you’ll beg for it, for me. What I won’t be is like any other man you’ve known. My work is intense, and that’s all you’ll know about it.”
His explanation isn’t really anything less than I expected. “You want me to be exclusive to you,” I state. His eyes flash with something dark and sinister, but I continue before he can speak. “I assume that doesn’t mean that you will be exclusive to me.”
UnScrew Me (Savage Beast MC Book 1) Page 9
