Conrad (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina Book Series 4)

by Lane Hart

  “Great.”

  “Don’t act surprised. You know I can’t trust you,” he says, grabbing my arm at the elbow to usher me back to the car and into the back seat.

  He fastens the seat belt on me and then goes back to the front to turn the car on and roll down the windows like I’m a dog he’s leaving behind. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns me.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I huff. “Just hurry up and feed me.”

  “Ah!” Conrad slams the door and then jogs to the bathroom like a little boy about to pee on himself, making me laugh.

  Chapter Eleven

  Conrad

  * * *

  “Open up,” I say when I sit down in the back seat with Hannah, who is strapped in the middle seat again after I pull her burger out of the wrapper.

  She does as I asked, parting her lips, opening wide, and of course that mouth of hers has me thinking of putting things I shouldn’t inside of it instead of food.

  Her teeth bite down on the bun, and even that sends a jolt of desire to my cock since I enjoy a little pain too. I usually deserve pain during sex since I’m also the one inflicting most of it.

  “Want some fries?” I ask as she chews.

  Hannah shakes her head. “Once a day is enough for me.”

  “Suit yourself,” I reply, shoveling a few salty fries into my own mouth.

  I offer her another bite of burger that she accepts enthusiastically. Once she swallows, she says, “You’re a pain in the ass, but at least you’re nice to look at – somewhere between a pretty surfer boy and a badass Viking. You’re almost too good-looking to be real.”

  Without even thinking about it, I hear myself reciting Cannon’s go-to response whenever a woman says he’s hot. “I was so handsome and perfect that after God made me, he decided he needed a duplicate.”

  “Huh?” Hannah asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Nothing,” I mutter rather than explain to her that I have an identical twin brother who would love her wild ways. The two of them together would be chaos on two wheels.

  “What’s the leather vest about?” she questions.

  “Cut. It’s called a cut,” I explain. “And it means that I’m a part of the Savage Kings MC of Myrtle Beach. Motorcycle Club,” I add when her brows lift in question.

  “What’s so great about the Savage Kings Motorcycle Club?” she asks between bites of burger. “You and a bunch of other guys just ride around on motorcycles?”

  “It’s more than motorcycles. It’s a brotherhood.”

  “Good guys?”

  “We try to be,” I answer honestly. “Some people may not agree with our vigilante ways.”

  “I bet my dad hates you all.”

  “He does,” I reply with a chuckle when she takes another bite of her burger. “If he could shut us down, he probably would have by now.”

  “Which has me wondering…how exactly did he rope you into coming to get me? Do the rest of the MC guys know why you’re here?”

  I debate whether or not to answer but figure there’s no reason not to tell her the truth. Once we’re back and she’s in rehab, she won’t be able to cause me any trouble

  “They think the chief asked the favor of the entire MC, not just from me specifically.”

  “So you lied to them?”

  “I told them what they needed to know. No one else wanted to help him after how shitty he handled the kidnappings several months back, so that left me to handle you.”

  “Kidnappings?” she asks. “Were you responsible for those too?”

  “God no! There were four men grabbing women off the street. They tied them up in storage units and gang raped them!”

  “So you’re just into bondage but not rape?” she asks.

  “It’s not even close to the same thing, even if it looks that way,” I grumble. “The women I’ve been with, or woman, signed consent forms that say exactly what she’s down for and then she consents again verbally before it happens.”

  “She let you tie her up and fuck her?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Did you date her too or just play with her?” Hannah asks.

  “It was just sex. Nothing else,” I lie, shoving the burger into her mouth, hoping she’ll stop with this line of questioning.

  “Huh,” she mutters. Then when she’s finished chewing, she says, “I thought you would be the kind of guy who is possessive of his women. You don’t mind if other guys restrain and fuck the same girl you were with another night?”

  I stare at her in surprise, wondering how the hell she knew that was something I struggled with, that I hated when my partner moved on and did a scene with another guy the night after they were with me, then asked if he could join us. It was a blow to my ego, like I was too rough or not hard-core enough for her to be happy with just me dominating her.

  “I can tie a woman up, but I can’t keep her from moving on to someone else,” I remark.

  “So you do hate sharing?” Hannah asks with a grin.

  “What does it matter? Why do you even care?”

  “Just shooting the shit, I guess,” she says. “Wondering how your mind works.”

  “Why don’t you just finish eating so I can feed myself and we can get back on the road?” I ask her. “We still have another four hours to go before we stop for the night.”

  “And how exactly do you plan to make sure I don’t bust out of a hotel room? You going to sleep with one eye open?”

  “Nope,” I respond, having already thought of a way to make sure she stays put.

  I’ll find a hotel with at least six or seven floors and no balcony, to make sure that the windows won’t open. Then, I’ll push my bed in front of the door so that she’ll have to move me and it at the same time to try and sneak out.

  This is all turning out easier than I expected, but it is a good thing that I have some experience restraining women.

  Soon, it’ll be one day down, four more to go.

  And then, I’ll be home where everything will go back to the way it was before I was blackmailed by a piece-of-shit police chief.

  That’s when I’ll work with the rest of the Savage Kings MC to figure out how exactly we’re going to make sure that bastard doesn’t get elected as the next mayor.

  You can bet your ass that I’ll do whatever it takes to ruin his dream.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hannah

  * * *

  Conrad has unfortunately thought of everything – including raiding the minibar and unplugging the landline phone that he put on top of the kitchen cabinets in the hotel, ensuring that I can’t reach it without loudly dragging a chair over the hardwood floor because there’s not enough open space on the counter.

  Then, he actually repositioned one of the queen beds so that the headboard is against the door, making sure that I can’t get out.

  The windows don’t open, and he left my cell phone and his in the rental car after he sent a message, I’m assuming to my father.

  Which means, I have no choice but to eat a slice of the pizza he picked up on the way in and then sack out for the night.

  Or I could go take a long bath or shower, even use the toilet without him watching the door.

  At least he removed the restraints from my ankles, wrists, and thighs for the entire night. All I had to do was agree not to fight him tomorrow when he has to put them back on.

  We’ll just see about that. Of course I’m going to fight him! Getting away here in a hotel with other people nearby is probably my best shot of not ending up with a random pervert helping me.

  Still, where would I ask a helpful stranger to take me? I don’t have any long-term plans. Never have. After graduating high school, I went to college and began drifting from one spontaneous idea to the next for the past two years.

  I used to have plans when I was younger.

  I love kids, so I wanted to be a teacher. Or a cop. That was probably more my dad’s dream for me. I thought he would love me more if I p
ut away bad guys like him. Now that just sounds ridiculous, especially the part about wanting a career that makes my piece-of-shit father proud. Nothing I could ever do would be good enough to suit that bastard. I can admit that to myself now, just as I can admit that I have no idea how to get out of this situation. The best thing for me right now might be to just relax, bide my time, and wait to see if Conrad lets down his guard.

  Conrad

  * * *

  I get up at five to get my shower before Hannah even stirs. By the time I’m finished and walk out of the bathroom, dressed, she’s sitting up awake in bed. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she notices there was an opportunity for her to try and move my bed to get out and she missed it. Which means that tomorrow morning, I’ll need to wake up even earlier to get ready.

  “Get your shower so we can hit the road,” I tell her. “I’ll call and order room service so we can eat before we leave here.”

  “Fine,” she grumbles. Throwing off the covers, she rolls out of bed, her blonde ponytail messy and coming loose from sleep.

  I plug the phone back in the wall to order pancakes and fruit, then stash the phone under the bed. When room service comes while Hannah is drying her hair in the bathroom, I tell them to leave it at the door. That way, she won’t be able to get to it until I move the bed, once the restraints are on.

  I already know that she’s not going to make restraining her again easy, which is why I plan to hold her breakfast hostage until she’s back in them. Sure, I’ll have to feed her again, but I don’t mind. In fact, I kind of like taking care of her even if she hates every second of it.

  While I wait for her to come out of the bathroom, I play with the leather belt-like apparatuses, wishing I knew why I had such a fascination with sex and bondage so that I could try and finally get the hell over it. I don’t like being the freak who gets hard when women let me tie them up and hurt them a little before I fuck them. It’s messed up and I’m ashamed that I get off on it, especially after what happened to Tessa. If my family found out, or the guys in the MC, they would disown and exile me for sure.

  “Ugh, already!” Hannah says when she comes out of the bathroom in a fresh tank top and shorts that are even shorter than the last pair and finds me sitting on her bed with the restraints.

  “If you’ll agree to put all of them on without resisting, I’ll let you keep your right wrist free until after we eat the food that’s outside the door.”

  “And what if I do resist?” she asks, brazenly cocking one of her hips.

  “Then I’ll still put this shit on you, but you won’t get any breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she says, which I’m pretty sure is a lie. From what I learned yesterday from watching her scarf down burgers, fries, and pizza, she enjoys eating junk food as much as I do.

  “Suit yourself. Let’s go ahead and get this over with,” I tell her, standing up with the spreader bar in my hands, figuring it would be easier to get her ankles in it, then use that to hold her down to get the rest of the cuffs in place.

  “No.” That one defiant word shouldn’t have all the blood in my body rushing to fill my cock. I’m so fucking sick.

  But that doesn’t change the fact that there is no way I can possibly leave this hotel room with Hannah unless she’s unable to run away.

  “I wasn’t asking you a question or for your permission,” I tell her.

  When I start walking toward her, she makes a run for the bathroom, but I already know that trick, and I am not waiting around hours for her ass to come out. She tries to close the door, but I put my shoulder against it, using all my weight to force it open until I overpower her and slip inside.

  Hannah lets go of the door to try and head for the shower, but it’s too late. I throw my free arm around her waist and carry her kicking and screaming to the bedroom where I toss her down on the mattress, rather than fighting her on the hard bathroom tile. She flops to her stomach and tries to scramble away, but I easily snatch up one ankle. It takes several tries while she kicks me in my stomach before I get the left ankle in place and start on the right one. The second ankle is much easier, taking me no time at all to buckle the leather and snap the lock in place. I’m barely even breathing heavily when I’m finished, and if anything, it’s arousal making me pant and not physical exertion.

  The fact is, I like that she’s fighting me, more than I should.

  “Damn you!” Hannah exclaims when she tries to stand up from the bed. It’s difficult with her ankles attached to a bar shoulder width apart, and she immediately falls back down onto the mattress.

  “You knew how this was going to go,” I remind her. Once I scoop up the thigh belts, it takes no effort at all for me to push her backward onto the bed again and use the spreader bar to flip her to her stomach so that her hands can’t hit or claw me. I even slip my body underneath the bar, kneeling between the bar and the rest of her legs so that there’s less room for her to try and writhe away. She does grab two handfuls of the comforter and tries to pull herself up the bed so that I have to grab her hips and tug her back into place.

  I slip the leather cuff around her smooth right upper thigh, my fingers touching her more than is necessary so close to her pussy that I can feel the heat radiating from her shorts. Does fighting me turn her on too, or is that just my fucked-up imagination? All it would take to find out is to peel her shorts and panties down her legs to see if she’s glistening wet between them or not.

  I try to push those thoughts away as I work quickly to secure her left thigh.

  “Please don’t do this to me,” she whimpers as I tighten the buckle and latch it into place, sounding like a tortured girl and not a seductress playing a game with me.

  “This could’ve been over with last night if you had just gone with me to the airport,” I remind her as I click the lock in place and then wrench her left arm backward so that her left wrist is next to the left thigh cuff where I need it. All the fight has gone out of her by this point as she lies facedown on the bed, which is sort of a shame.

  “Remember yesterday when I tried to get you to the airport?” I add when she doesn’t say anything else.

  “I’m not going back to Myrtle Beach!” Hannah declares. “Please. I’ll do anything if you’ll just let me go,” she adds softly. Then her right hand that’s still free reaches back and grabs my hard cock through my jeans and squeezes it, making me freeze because fuck it feels good and so fucking bad at the same time. “You want me, don’t you? Do me and then leave.”

  “Can’t,” I say as I pry her fingers off me and fit the leather cuff around her wrist. “And where the fuck would you go? Back to Bob?” My teeth grit at the reminder of that asshole who was so willing to share her with me. He should’ve been on his knees worshiping the gorgeous woman who wanted him, not trying to pimp her out for some sick fetish of his. But again, who am I to throw stones?

  “I don’t know,” Hannah says. “Anywhere but Myrtle Beach.”

  “You’re twenty going on twelve, Hannah. You need to go home and be with your family,” I tell her as I snap the last lock in place on her wrist. Still, there’s a part of me that wishes I knew why she was so adamant about not going back, what her father did to make her hate him so much that she would give up her entire family to avoid him.

  Slipping back out of the ankle spreader, I flip her over onto her back and look down at her bound and at my mercy, her messy hair spread out around her like a golden halo. The only way she could look any hotter was if she were naked. And if her blue eyes weren’t filled with loathing which is reiterated when she places her feet against my chest and tries to push me away. I go backward willingly, leaving her alone because while my desires are dark, I’m not a monster who would touch her against her will.

  I move my bed back into place while she stews unmoving on hers, then bring in our breakfast.

  After I eat, Hannah won’t sit up to let me feed her anything, turning her head and refusing to open her mouth until I eventually
give up.

  “Suit yourself. Go hungry. I don’t care,” I tell her even though that’s a lie. I don’t want her to go without eating.

  But she’s stubborn, and I can’t force her to eat.

  Gathering up our things, I stuff everything into our bags, throw them on my shoulder, and then do the same to her before hurrying to the car, hoping no one sees me leaving the hotel with the woman I’ve basically kidnapped hanging over my shoulder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hannah

  * * *

  I refuse to talk to Conrad the rest of the day as he drives, and I don’t eat lunch when he stops after the first four hours.

  Sure, it’s childish, but my choices for expressing my anger are limited, as are the movements of my hands. Not to mention the piercing headache I’ve had for days making thinking about the smallest thing too painful to endure.

  Ugh, and I can’t even fathom having a single bite of food because my stomach is hurting too badly.

  I do know my silence and hunger strike are getting to him. More and more often he heaves a heavy, annoyed sigh after glancing back at me in the rearview mirror.

  Which is great because I have to figure out something to make this madness stop.

  No matter how hungry I am by dinnertime, having not eaten anything in twenty-four hours, I refuse to cave. No, Conrad is going to cave first. I’m certain of it.

  In fact, after dinner, the normally calm man snaps.

  “You have to eat, dammit!” he shouts at me as he paces beside the bed I’m lying on in tonight’s hotel, too weak to move. “What do you want, Hannah? Tell me and I’ll find it for you, just eat or drink something, anything, for fuck’s sake!”

  “You first,” I say, the words barely a whisper because my throat is so dry.

  “What?” Conrad asks, stopping midstride to look down at me.