Theirs To Defy: a Reverse Harem Romance

by Stasia Black

  Drea thought she might scream in terror until he let her off, but then he did something that had her never, ever wanting to move.

  He climbed on right behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist. “That’s right, Lil’ Bit, you’re doing so good.”

  She immediately sank back against him. She didn’t even think about it. It was just like… suddenly it was all okay.

  He was her Daddy. He wasn’t the Devil. Or if he was, she didn’t even care. He was her Daddy. He wanted her. She was his Lil’ Bit.

  He liked motorcycles so she’d like motorcycles. She’d love them. She’d love everything he loved and would make him so happy he’d never have a reason to send her away.

  So, even though she was terrified, when he explained that she could either put her hands on his legs or on his hands as he steered the bike, she nodded with her brow furrowed in concentration. He settled a big, heavy helmet on her head.

  When he turned the bike on and the roar of the huge engine made her want to cry and hold her hands over her ears, she forced herself to keep her hands just where Daddy said. She dug her fists into the material of his jeans and held on for dear life. He pulled the bike forward and her stomach swooped.

  He put his hand on her waist again as he maneuvered the bike out of the parking lot.

  Then the bike took off down the road.

  She screamed some. She couldn’t help it. Especially on the corners.

  But Daddy’s big barrel chest behind her back helped steady her through the worst of it. And after maybe five or ten minutes of holding on to Daddy for all she was worth with her eyes squeezed shut, she finally opened her eyes.

  Only to find they were flying.

  They’d made it out of town and it was just them, the long road stretching ahead of them, pasture on all sides, and the sky, so much blue, blue sky. Blue like Daddy’s eyes. Like her eyes too.

  Forty-five minutes later when the ride was over, Drea could say she’d almost even enjoyed herself.

  But it turned out the best part of the whole day was yet to come. Because after they pulled back into the parking lot of the Em-Cee, Daddy tugged off his helmet, then hers, and he was grinning at her. Like he was proud of her. That alone made her feel like she was still flying down the road, up off into the air into that bright sunny, blue sky.

  It was his words, though, that broke her world open and brought back the sunshine. That let her start living again.

  He notched his forefinger under her chin, still with that dazzling white-toothed smile of his.

  “Sure do love you, Lil’ Bit. Always have, always will.”

  But suddenly Daddy wasn’t on the motorcycle looking down at her anymore.

  No, she was the one looking down at him.

  Cause he was on his knees.

  A man stood behind him, gun pointed to the back of his head.

  And Daddy, he flashed those baby blues up at Drea for one last time.

  “Sure do love you, Lil’ Bit. Always have, always will.”

  BANG.

  “No!!!” Drea screamed, jerking up right in bed.

  She blinked and choked on a sob, looking around frantically.

  “Drea!” Eric rushed into the room, checking all around. When he didn’t see anyone, he hurried to sit down on the bed beside her. “Are you okay?”

  He pushed a stray dreadlock out of her face and she jumped back from him, wiping at her eyes with her forearm and then getting to her feet.

  “Fine,” she barked out. “I’m going to go downstairs to check on how the women are doing.”

  “Okay, but Drea,” he stood up. She couldn’t bring herself to look his direction. Not with thoughts of Daddy still so vivid in her head. God, what must Eric have thought of her coming in here and finding her like that? There were some things no one ever needed to know about her.

  “What?”

  “It’s okay to need a shoulder to cry on sometimes.”

  She snapped her head to look over toward him and gave him a skewering glare. “I don’t cry.”

  Then she jogged out of the apartment, ignoring both Garrett and Billy, and lost herself training with the women for several hours.

  Gisela was a quick study at hand to hand combat and target practice. Maya was bad at both, but she still shadowed Gisela’s every move. A little like Gisela seemed to shadow Drea whenever she was around.

  Which she made it a point not to be. It was better that she spent most of her time upstairs. She didn’t need any of these women getting attached to her. She’d teach them how to defend themselves but that was it.

  She was nobody’s leader. She’d learned her lesson and she’d learned it well.

  When she came back upstairs several hours later, sweaty and drained from a good workout, she expected to be more relaxed.

  But ever since Drea kicked Eric and Garrett out of the Withdrawal Room a few days ago, Eric had been acting… differently.

  Like even the way he looked at her was different.

  Usually when he was talking to her he seemed exasperated and right on the edge of losing his shit.

  But the past few days? Like this morning?

  He’d been eerily calm. And patient. Even with Billy. Eric had taken turns cuffing himself to Billy—even throughout the fourth night of withdrawal that Billy spent hugging the toilet, losing the small amount of food they’d managed to get down earlier, out one end or the other.

  Drea only knew about it because Garrett told her the next morning. She’d slept like a baby in the other room.

  She’d assumed she’d have to carry the burden of dealing with Billy’s withdrawal entirely on her own shoulders. After all, Eric and Garrett hadn’t signed up for this shit. It was her own crusade she’d decided to fight, for some damn crazy reason she still wasn’t prepared to examine too closely.

  But there they were, every step of the way. Garrett sponging down Billy’s face. Eric urging her to go rest in the other room while he fed Billy a bowl of broth.

  It had been a week since Billy’d last had any pills and finally, finally, he was looking like himself again.

  Drea didn’t know what she’d expected when she came back upstairs today. More of the same? Billy in bed, back turned towards everyone, face buried in a pillow.

  But instead, he was sitting up at the dining room table with Eric and Garrett, playing cards. He looked… showered. His eyes were still bloodshot when he glanced her way but when he offered a tentative smile, it looked genuine.

  Drea’s chest cinched tight. Had they really done it? Were they through the worst?

  After learning everything she had about her mom in that huge fight with Dad when she was eighteen, she’d spent a lot of time volunteering at an outpatient addiction treatment center in town. She knew it took around six days for the worst of the withdrawal symptoms to pass.

  Still, in the middle of the worst of it with Billy, it seemed like he’d never get through it, that he’d never get better.

  But now here he was, sitting there, sane and in one piece. Whole.

  For how long?

  Fuck it. She’d worry about that another day.

  Today was one to celebrate. It was the day she’d always wished she could have with Mama. The day she’d lived over and over in her head. Mama, clear eyed and of sound mind. Finally able to be the mother Drea had always wished for and known she could be.

  Drea walked straight over to Billy and threw her arms around him. For a second he didn’t respond. He was just stiff in her arms.

  Okay, so maybe he was still mad about the whole handcuffing thing. Fair enough. She wouldn’t—

  But suddenly his arms slipped around her waist and he squeezed her so tight to him she could barely breath.

  “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. And if she wasn’t wrong, she thought he might have— Did he just kiss her on the side of her head, right above her ear? Her breath caught and she pulled back.

  For a long second, she just stared into the deep brown of his eyes. Ye
s, the skin around his eyes was puffy and the whites were red, but it was the way he was looking at her that held her still.

  In the entire time she’d known Billy other than the desperate moment when he told her he wanted to quit, that he really wanted it, he’d been half-gone, his mind always on when and where he could get his next fix.

  But now he was looking at her—really looking with a clear head for the first time.

  She swallowed hard under his intense examination. His eyes dropped to her lips and her breath hiccupped.

  No, no, no, she couldn’t be—

  She let go of him and heaved herself backwards, so violently Billy stumbled a little bit after she yanked away from him.

  “Glad to see you finally sober,” she said, her voice stiff as she averted her gaze. “Now try to stay that way.”

  With that, she turned and strode into her bedroom at the end of the hall. As she closed the door behind her, she sank back against it and pressed her palms against her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut.

  What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t afford to let herself be distracted right now. The women downstairs needed her. She might not be the one to lead them, but she still needed to equip them to face the world on their own. Not to mention all the girls she’d failed back at Nomansland.

  How dare she even play at being boy crazy at a time like this? What the fuck was wrong with her?

  And yet, behind her closed eyes, the images that had plagued her ever since her thought experiment a few nights before—three bodies surrounding her—came back with a vengeance. Hands squeezing, mouths sucking, cocks—

  She yanked her shirt off over her head as she stomped toward the bathroom. A good cold shower, that’s all she really needed.

  And maybe a punch in the face so she could get her priorities straight.

  She shook her head at herself as she yanked her pants down her legs and kicked them off.

  She’d just reached around to unclasp her bra when the door to her bedroom slammed open.

  “What the hell was that back there?” Eric’s voice boomed. “He’s gone through hell this week and then you just—”

  “What the fuck!” Drea screeched, arms covering her breasts. She hadn’t taken her bra off yet—thank God—but it was so old and the lace worn so thin in spots she might as well have.

  Eric’s jaw literally dropped open and his eyes scanned up and down her body. Son of a bitch was just gonna stand there and gawk? Really?

  Fine.

  She dropped her hands to her hips and cocked her head. “Wanna take a picture for your spank bank? Cause I’ll wait while you go get your camera.”

  Eric’s eyes jerked back to her face and he took a deep breath. He pointed a finger in her direction. “Put some damn clothes on so we can have a conversation. Billy’s hanging on by a thread and you doing that weird drive by didn’t help.”

  Drea threw her hands up. “Oh, so suddenly you care about Billy? You couldn’t have given less of a shit about him at the beginning of the week.”

  “Well I changed, didn’t I? Or is your ego so far stuck up your own ass you didn’t even notice?”

  Drea let out an outraged noise. Son of a bitch. “Oh I’m sorry. I guess it was my ego that made me storm this damn compound just so I could get some fucking antibiotics because you would have fucking died without them.”

  Eric scoffed. “We both know you did that for you, not me. This was your plan all along, right? Come here. Train your army. Go after Suicide or whatever the fuck his name is.”

  “Thomas,” Drea corrected with a growl.

  “See,” Eric held out his hand as if she’d just made his point. “Don’t pretend your agenda had any altruistic motivation. You’re a cold tactician. And what, you needed a doctor who’d be indebted to you? Is that what this whole week with Billy was about?”

  Drea crossed the room in three strides, and with the fourth her hand was swinging. Was it bad taste to slap a man with a broken arm? When he infuriated her as much as Eric fucking Wolford? Hell no.

  But the slap never landed. Eric grabbed her hand mid-air with his good one before she could land her blow.

  And then he spun her around and slammed her back up against the wall, pressing his chest to hers so he could pin her there.

  “We aren’t all just little puppets in your play,” he said through his teeth, getting right up in her face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to that man out there? He fucking worships you. A word from you could make or break him, don’t you fucking understand that?” He slammed her wrist against the wall to emphasize his words, and Drea’s chest pumped up and down as she searched Eric’s eyes.

  “Make or break him?” she asked, her voice low, eyes dropping to his lips. “Or you?”

  For a moment, pure fury flashed across his face.

  And then he was kissing her.

  Oh Jesus, yes.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  She hiked her leg up around his hip and ground herself against him shamelessly. He was already rock hard.

  Holy fuck, how long had he been hard? The whole time they’d been arguing?

  She dug her fingers into his hair, scratching down his scalp with her nails. He growled against her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

  She thrust right back until they were dueling each other with their kisses. And devouring. Not enough. She needed more. More, dammit.

  She twirled their bodies again and then shoved Eric back until he was stumbling toward the bed. She ripped her bra the rest of the way off and then launched herself toward him, tackling him down to the mattress. She ignored his grimace of pain—his arm must have gotten jostled. But the bed was soft and he’d get over it.

  Her hands went to the button of his jeans and judging by the way his hard cock jumped at her touch, she’d say he was distracted enough by other things not to be too bothered by the pain at the moment.

  “Lift your goddamned hips,” she ordered.

  He glared at her but complied so she could jerk his pants and underwear down his thighs.

  And then there he was.

  All of him.

  And damn but his cock was huge. She always suspected he’d have a big one. Men weren’t usually as self-confident as Eric was, with such an effortless ability to lead others if they weren’t packing some serious family jewels. Not a theory she’d had much opportunity to put to the test in her life, practically speaking, but damn. Eric did not disappoint.

  Right when she moved to climb on top of him so she could feel every inch of that glorious cock stretching her to her limits, though, Eric suddenly grabbed her with his good arm. The next second, he’d flipped her so that she was on her back and he was the one hovering over her.

  “What gives you the idea you get to run this show, babe?”

  Son of a— He should feel honored that she deigned to—

  But then he dropped down and kissed her so ferociously again that she forgot any and all objections. She wrapped both legs around his hips and grabbed his ass.

  “Get,” kiss, “the fuck,” kiss, “inside me,” she growled.

  Eric pulled back and grinned, moving his hips so that the tip of his cock dragged up and down the lips of her drenched pussy. “I don’t know, babe. Not sure you’re ready yet.”

  “You son of a—”

  Again he kissed her before she could finish her sentence.

  Motherfucker. She’d definitely have to shut that shit down. After. After she rode that big dick of his and reached the screaming orgasm she could already feel rising.

  He reached down between them to where his cock teased her and dipped his fingers in where she needed his dick to be.

  She clenched around the two fingers he slipped inside her, lifting her head off the pillow to bite at his lips. God, she’d never been like this before in bed. She’d never felt so ravenous for another human being.

  So when he pulled his fingers out of her and pushed them roughly against her lips, ordering, “Suck,” she
opened her mouth and did what he said.

  Her scent and taste was nothing like she might have expected. It was so dirty. And so goddamned hot, having Eric on top of her, so demanding and dominant.

  Which you shouldn’t like.

  Again, what the hell was wrong with her. She prided herself on being a strong, independent woman. Not the kind who licked at a man’s fingers like a dog begging for scraps. No, she needed to put a stop to this right n—

  But before she could voice any of her thoughts, Eric began thrusting in with that huge, gloriously thick cock of his.

  She hadn’t fucked anything other than her own fingers in years. Did sex always feel this—

  “Oh!” she cried out. “Right there. Oh God, right there.”

  He was almost all the way seated when he swiveled and jerked his hips, thrusting the last couple inches until he was sheathed inside, balls snugly against her ass.

  Oh God, oh Jesus, yes. This was where he was always meant to be. Their bodies were made for each other like interlocking puzzle pieces. Only when he was inside her like this did any of the chaos of the world slow down and make sense.

  Then he started thrusting, and thrusting ruthlessly.

  “Come on, Drea. Come. You’re going to come all around my cock, and you’re going to do it quickly. You know you’ve been holding out on me all these months. Holding out on us. Just admit the truth.” He leaned down for a crushing kiss. “You’ve wanted this as much as I have.”

  She jerked back from his mouth and glared at him. But she could only keep it up for a moment. Too soon her head was dipping back into the pillow as she arched her back, foot slamming into the mattress so she could thrust her pelvis up toward his with his every stroke.

  She bit her lip against the scream building in her throat at the pleasure that rose higher and higher every time his pelvis ground against hers. And then there was how his cock hit that spot so deep up inside her.

  Holy shit. She thought the G-spot was a myth. But oh— Was that where—? She’d never felt anything like—

  “Come, Drea. Come because I’m ordering you to. Do it now!”

  “You son of a bitch,” she screamed as one of the most intense orgasms of her life ripped through her body.