by Joanna Wylde
“What do you mean?” I asked, stiffening.
“In my world we don’t follow the rules, babe,” he said. “There’s nothing about me my brothers don’t know. Remember what I told you while you were packing your shit?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, mesmerized as he leaned forward, nuzzling between my legs, flicking his tongue over my clit twice, which was almost enough to send me over.
But not quite.
I shifted restlessly, wishing I could bring my legs together, squeeze them just enough to finish the job, but he wouldn’t let me.
“This is my pussy,” Horse said, reaching up inside me with two fingers, rubbing against my inside wall purposefully. I shivered. “I’ll fuck it when I want and how I want. We party with the club and I get horny, you spread for me and you don’t bitch about it. That means against a wall, on the floor, in the middle of the fucking grocery store, you give it to me when I want or this deal is off. Get it?”
I nodded, torn between anger at his words and desperation for his touch. Fortunately, he stopped talking and sucked on my clit. I blew about ten seconds later, my moans echoing in the shower as I came. It took everything I had to stay on my feet, and even then I gripped his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
He left me to finish washing, which consisted mostly of getting the conditioner out of my hair and my heart rate down to normal. I wrapped my hair in a towel and pulled on sweats and a ratty t-shirt to go back to my room. The door to Horse’s room was closed and the house was silent. That surprised me somehow. I guess I expected to see him again, that he’d want more from me. I knew he liked sleeping together—we’d done it twice and he’d held me all night both times. That’s when it really sank in.
Horse didn’t want me in his room because I wasn’t his woman.
He’d offered me that and I said no—now my job was to service him and stay out of his way. Suddenly having my own room wasn’t looking so good. I actually felt lonely for the jerk, wishing he’d spend the night with me. But Horse had made himself clear—cuddling was for girlfriends and old ladies.
Now I was just a quick fuck, and it was my own damned fault.
Chapter Twelve
A hand slid into my sweatpants sometime during the night, fingers grazing my clit as a mouth claimed my breast. I moaned, sleepy and unsure if this was a dream or not. Then the hand left me to pull down my sweats. I opened my eyes, awake now, trying to figure out what was happening. A man was on top of me. Gary? I opened my mouth to scream and a hand covered it even as he spoke.
“No more sleeping in shit like this,” Horse murmured as he pushed his leg between mine. “You sleep naked or in something sexy, no excuses.” Then he kissed me gently below my left ear, nuzzling my neck. He pulled his hand from my mouth and I punched his shoulder.
He laughed.
“Don’t cover my mouth!” I hissed.
“Didn’t want you screaming and rupturing my eardrum, babe,” he replied, his voice low and sexy. He pressed his hips into the cradle of mine and I shuddered. How could he piss me off so much and turn me on at the same time? It wasn’t fair. “You gonna behave or should I tie you up?”
“Are you serious?”
“Fuck, yeah, I’m serious,” Horse replied, reaching down to find my clit. I arched up and moaned, because no matter how angry he made me, my inner slut wanted him. Bad. “I’m the boss. You remember that or I’ll teach you.”
He caught my hands and pulled them roughly over my head, holding them prisoner with one hand while his other worked me like he’d done in the bathroom. My body was starved for this, still wound up from earlier. I’d been too paranoid to touch myself after the shower, nervous he’d come into my bedroom and discover me. I don’t know why keeping that part of myself from him seemed so important, but it was.
In less than a minute, he had me primed and ready. He pulled away and I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper tearing. Horse muttered a curse in the darkness before coming back, catching my hands and pinning them on either side of my head as he lined up his cock with my opening.
Horse had a big dick—I knew this. But I didn’t truly grasp the implications until he started pushing into me, slow and steady, no hesitation and no stopping. I squirmed against the bed as he filled me, the satisfaction of feeling full tempered with little twinges of pain as he stretched me wide. I could just make out his features in the faint moonlight streaming through the window—a mask of determination and desire that overwhelmed me. Then he hit bottom, balls-deep in my body. My muscles twitched around him, little tremors running through me as I struggled to hold him.
“Gotta get used to me, babe,” he murmured, dropping kisses across my face before taking my mouth again for the first time without urgency. “I’ll go slow.”
And he did. Gradually I felt myself relax around him. When he started stroking, that big cock of his rubbed against me in places I hadn’t even realized existed. Gradually he moved faster and I started lifting my hips to meet his, body eager for more. Usually I don’t come from vaginal sex alone—I need more stimulation for my clit.
Horse was different, though, because his body was big enough to spread me wide open, exposing my center to the delicious slide of his erection as he pumped in and out of my body. Having my arms pinned added to the experience because I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I had to take what he gave me, no arguments, and that was weirdly liberating—utterly guilt-free sex.
I don’t think even a minute went by before I came, arching my back up from the bed, every muscle in my body squeezing hard enough to hurt.
That’s when he let go and started fucking me for real.
Horse went from gentle lover to biker thug, rising on his knees as he released my arms. He grabbed my waist, lifting and tilting my pelvis to provide a better angle as he literally fucked himself with my body. I have no idea how much time passed, but I know at one point I reached down and rubbed my clit, chasing a second orgasm. When it hit and I clenched around him again, he fell over the edge, exploding inside me. He dropped me back down on the bed, covering me as his cock bucked and shuddered his release.
Holy shit.
We both stilled, panting as we recovered. Then Horse rolled off me, stood up and pulled off the condom, tossing it in the little trash can next to the dresser. He walked out of the room without a word, leaving me in the darkness.
I’ve never felt more alone in my life.
I woke up to bright sunlight and silence.
Climbing out of bed, I winced at the soreness between my legs, although I couldn’t say I regretted it. I’d never come like that before, not even with my vibrator. I pulled on a tank with a shelf bra and jeans without panties. I hadn’t thought to rinse my others out last night, and I certainly wasn’t going to put them back on dirty. Horse may have declared my privates a panty-free zone, but we needed to have words about that. No way I wanted to go commando permanently.
I hit the bathroom and then walked downstairs, listening for sounds of life.
“Horse, you here?” I called. He didn’t answer, but I heard the clicking sound of a dog’s toenails on the wooden floor. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with dogs, and this one sounded big to me.
Horse wouldn’t leave me alone with a violent animal, I told myself firmly. He might be a jerk, but he didn’t want me dead. I peeked over the banister, poised to run back up to my room if it turned out to be a monster. Instead I found a mid-sized dog with long silver-black hair broken by white streaks looking up at me hopefully. Its mouth hung open in a wide puppy grin, tongue flopped to the side.
Not exactly a killer.
“Hey there,” I said softly, working my way down the stairs. The dog watched me intently, mouth closing as it took on the fixed look of a herd dog at work, ready for anything. I reached the bottom of the steps and held my hand out low. The dog approached me, sniffed my hand and then started butting against it for a scratch. I obliged as the dog melted to the floor, writhing in ecstasy.
“You’re
not much more than a puppy,” I murmured. “I’ll bet you fly when you jump—do you like chasing sticks?”
“Be careful what you say to him,” Horse said. “You start making promises, he’ll hold you to them. Takes a hell of a long time to tire him out too.”
“I didn’t think you were here,” I muttered.
“Not all of us make noise constantly,” he replied. “You sounded like a herd of moose up there.”
I scowled.
“I did not sound like a moose,” I said. “It’s not my fault the floors are old and creaky.”
“I didn’t say you sounded like a moose,” he replied, an almost friendly expression on his face. “I said you sounded like a herd of moose. There’s a big difference.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“I made breakfast,” he said, jerking his chin toward the kitchen. “It’s not much. I want you to take over the cooking and shit, but I was hungry and you weren’t moving.”
I blushed, thinking about why I’d been tired, and he gave a low, satisfied chuckle.
“That’s Ariel, by the way,” he added, jerking his chin toward the dog. “But I call him Ari.”
I stared at him.
“You have a boy dog named Ariel?” I asked, not quite sure I’d heard him right.
“My niece named him,” Horse replied, shrugging. “Would break her heart to change it and I figure the dog doesn’t give a shit. I can live with Ari.”
I nodded, biting the side of my cheek. Once again, the badass biker was a mystery. He issued threats, carried a gun that I was pretty sure he knew how to use, and he let his little niece name his dog after a mermaid.
Split personality, no question.
Breakfast wasn’t fancy but it was surprisingly good. He’d made French toast with some ham on the side and wedges of ripe, juicy cantaloupe. The meal followed the same pattern as the night before, except this time he told me to put together a shopping list after we finished. Then he disappeared, taking the dog with him.
I spent about an hour working my way through the kitchen, making notes of what he had and what he needed, surprised to find that while he didn’t have a ton of fancy gadgets, what he did own was solid and high quality. Same with the pots and utensils. By the time he came back, I had a list long enough to fill both sides of the paper. He looked at it, raising an eyebrow, but didn’t complain.
“Rig’s out front,” he said, starting toward the door. I followed him hastily, wishing I had my purse but not entirely sure he’d wait for me if I went to find it. Ari danced between us and tried to jump up into the dark-green Tahoe parked next to the house.
“No fucking way,” Horse said to Ari, and the dog barked at him, clearly pleading.
“No,” he repeated, voice firm.
Ari slunk away, looking pitiful.
“You don’t tie him up or anything?” I asked as we started down the driveway.
“No need,” Horse said. “I’m far enough out that I don’t need to worry about kids or strangers hurting him. He knows where his house is, and I guess if he decides to run off that’s his choice. So far he seems happy to stay put.”
Kind of like me, I realized. I could leave at any time, but I wouldn’t and Horse knew it.
He surprised me by pulling onto the freeway after we hit Coeur d’Alene, driving across the border into Washington. After about twenty minutes he exited near a giant mall, pulling around and parking without a word.
“I thought we were getting groceries,” I said, confused.
“We are,” Horse replied. “Gotta get some other stuff first.”
I followed him into the mall, and couldn’t help but notice how much attention he got—most of it from women. I got that, because Horse was a hell of a sight. Tall, tattooed, hair back in a ponytail and wearing his cut over a shirt so faded you couldn’t tell what the original design had been. Jeans showcased his exceptionally fine ass, and the chain dangling across his hip attached to his wallet completed the picture perfectly.
Men noticed him, too. Most of them got out of his way, even the young toughs wearing gang colors and pretending to be badasses. I couldn’t decide if it felt more like walking with a superhero or a super villain—either way, people cleared out of our path fast.
I tagged along without question until we stopped in front of Victoria’s Secret. Then I crossed my arms and shook my head.
“Oh, hell no. I’m not going in there with you. We can hit a Walmart or something.”
“Don’t want you wearing shit that you wore for Gary,” Horse replied, draping an arm around my neck, pulling me into his body. He leaned over and spoke directly in my ear, voice husky. “I don’t give a damn if you never wear panties again, but I know women are weird about that. Here’s the compromise. I’m gonna buy you new shit, but only shit I like. You’re gonna wear it until I pull it off to fuck you. Everyone wins.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then snapped it closed. I needed panties and bras, and I didn’t have my own transportation. I’d been smart enough to shove my cash and debit card into the backpack last night, but that money had to last until I got another job.
Shit, I’d forgotten about work.
“I need to call my boss.”
“You scheduled to work today?” he asked, sliding his hand up to tangle it in my hair. I shook my head.
“No, not until tomorrow.”
“So you call her when we get home.”
“What am I going to tell her?” I fretted. “She’s been so good to me—she doesn’t deserve to have me just disappear on her without notice…”
“Tell her you got kidnapped by a biker and now you’re a prisoner in the mountains,” he said, leaning over and catching my mouth with his in a long, slow kiss that left me shaky. Before I could collect my thoughts, he grabbed my hand and tugged me into the store. I pulled back, still not too happy about the idea. He turned toward me, put both his hands on my shoulders and leaned in to me, face to face.
“Babe, I can’t wait to see you in some of this shit,” he said. “Your old job is not my priority here. I don’t give a fuck what you tell her so long as she doesn’t file a missing persons report and make my life a pain in the ass. She does, things aren’t gonna go well. We clear?”
“Okay,” I said, biting my lip. His eyes caught on my mouth and grew dark, so I quickly pulled away and wandered toward a rack of panties—simple ones. Pretty but not slutty. Plain cotton hip-huggers. Horse followed me, watching as I picked out a couple and shook his head.
“Get a few of those, you’ll want ’em when you’re on the rag,” he muttered, fingering one distastefully. “But the rest of the time I want you in something sexier.”
His tone didn’t leave any room for negotiation, so I didn’t bother arguing when he turned me and pushed me toward the racks of higher-end stuff. A saleswoman came up to us, all fluttering lashes and smiles for Horse. Before I knew it, I was in a changing room with her, she had measured me and there was a pile of stuff for me to try on.
Horse wanted to come in, too, but I held my ground, so he waited outside and I called him in to look at each set once I had it on. I don’t know what the store policy was on couples in the rooms alone, but apparently it didn’t apply to giant bikers.
Unfortunately, this meant that he made the final decision on both what I tried on and what he planned to buy. In the end, I had six new pairs of sexy panties with matching bras, in addition to six pairs of plain cotton ones. Some of them were thongs, some were boy cut high across my ass, but all of them showed off my figure in a way that even I had to admit was hot.
Then he started picking out corsets and nighties.
Some of them looked like something from a bordello, all black lace, cutouts and bright red satin. Others were more tasteful, including a long, lacy nightgown and matching silk robe that looked almost virginal. My favorite piece was an ivory corset and bustier trimmed with faintly pink ribbons shaped like tiny roses. There were matching panties, and the look on Horse’s face when
he saw them turned me liquid.
We ended up spending more than a thousand bucks. I almost had a heart attack, but Horse ignored me as he paid the girl in cash. I don’t know whose eyes were wider when he pulled out that wad of bills, hers or mine. Then he handed me a black pushup bra and matching thong, saying, “Go put ’em on.”
I did what he said.
I figured that was the end of our shopping, but when we got back in the Tahoe he drove me to a motorcycle dealership. There he bought me a couple of Harley-Davidson tank tops that were way, way tighter than anything I’d ever worn in public before and a lightweight leather jacket.
Next we stopped at a place called the Line—a strip club with an attached store full of women’s clothing. Apparently it belonged to the Reapers, and while the place wasn’t open yet for the day, the staff had arrived and were busy getting ready.
“I don’t like this place,” I told him as I followed him through the club toward a door in the far wall. Everywhere I looked were girls wearing almost nothing, some of them naked except for thongs and high heels, while others wore silky robes. A few of them took his arm, pressing against his side. Some looked at me speculatively. One reached down and slid her hand over his fly, squeezing as she kissed his neck.
“Back off,” Horse said, clearly annoyed. She pouted and turned, glaring at me. “Fuckin’ bitches,” he murmured, unlocking a door leading into the store next door.
It wasn’t open for the day and I was thankful for that, because this place made Vicky’s Secret look like a burkha warehouse. Edible panties, stripper heels, leather and lace and sex toys everywhere, including a few that made Horse’s equipment look small, which kind of frightened me. I literally couldn’t find a safe place to put my eyes, so I watched Horse instead as he picked out an outfit best described as “post-modern slut.” It included a dark-brown leather corset/bustier that stopped mid-stomach, exposing my bellybutton and the curves of my waist. He threw in a skirt so short I seriously wondered if I’d get arrested if we went out in public.