Reaper's Property

by Joanna Wylde

  “Nope,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, we aren’t pissed at you. This isn’t about you. You’ll keep your mouth shut if you want to survive, and you’re smart enough to know that. That’s not why you’re here.”

  “Why am I here?”

  “So you can see just how seriously fucked your brother is,” he replied. “Because we’re going to kill him if he doesn’t find a way to pay us back. I think he might be able to pull it off with the proper motivation.”

  “I will,” Jeff babbled. “I’ll pay you back, thank you so much—”

  “No, you’ll pay us back twice as much, fuckwad,” Picnic said, kicking him viciously in the side with his heavy leather boot. Jeff pitched to the floor, keening in pain. “That’s if we let you live, which is entirely up to your sister.”

  Now was the moment. Horse wondered if he’d have to argue with her or just throw her in the truck, hands tied behind her back.

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  Well shit. That was a little too easy. Didn’t she care about her safety at all? Nope, all she cared about was Jeff-hole. Horse snorted, disgusted, letting his eyes roam across her body. Fuck, she was hot. Even like this, straight from work, scared out of her mind. His Marie was small and curvy, with hair framing her face and tits heaving as she tried to control her fear. He’d bet a thousand dollars she had no idea the top four buttons of her shirt had come undone, showing a hell of a lot of cleavage and the outline of her black bra.

  His dick approved. It wanted to squeeze between those boobs and shoot out a pretty pearl necklace for her to wear. Horse took a deep breath, this wasn’t over yet. He could fuck her tits later. Might be the first thing on his list.

  “Don’t you want to ask what it is first?” he asked.

  “Um, sure,” she said. “What do I have to do?”

  “It seems Horse here wants a house mouse,” Picnic said. She looked blank. Picnic sighed and looked at Horse. “She’s clueless, you sure about this? Seems like work to me.”

  Horse glared at him, wondering if he could hit him without fucking up his plan. Probably not. He turned back to Marie, forcing himself to stay calm, collected.

  “This is your option,” he said, voice clipped. “You want to keep dumbass alive, pack a bag and climb on my bike when we leave. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, no questions and no bitching.”

  “Why?” she asked, so cute and confused and blank it pissed him off even more. Didn’t she have any survival skills at all?

  “So you can cook dessert for me,” he snapped.

  Her mouth dropped open. Seriously, she didn’t get what was happening here? He shook his head, frustrated.

  “Why the hell do you think?” he said, the words grating and harsh. “So I can fuck you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re threatening to kill my brother just so you can sleep with me?” Marie asked, her face stricken.

  Ruger walked over to Horse, draping his arm around his shoulders.

  “She’s cute, but not real smart. Why don’t you let me take her for a ride, get her trained up for you.”

  Ruger pumped his hips lewdly toward Marie. Horse turned and punched him in the stomach, the prick. He’d had too much of this shit, time to move along. He wanted Marie alone, naked, riding his cock. Enough with the pleasantries.

  Grabbing her arm, he dragged her out of the trailer and into the orchard, pushing her back against one of the trees. She was breathing hard, making her boobs rise and fall, taunting him. He was pissed at Jeff, pissed at Ruger and pissed at Marie for being so damned perfect that she’d pushed him to this after he should have cut her loose. He’d offered her everything and she’d thrown it back in his face, yet she was perfectly willing to pimp herself out for that fuckface of a brother.

  “I don’t want to sleep with you,” he told her grimly. “I want to fuck you. Sleeping, cuddling, all that other shit is for girlfriends and old ladies, and you’ve made it pretty fucking clear you aren’t interested in any of that,” he said, thinking about the leathers he’d gotten for her. What a joke. “I’m threatening your brother because he stole from the club, which had nothing to do with you. You steal from the club, you pay in blood. You’re his blood. We take you, he pays. Fucking you is just a bonus.”

  “So you’re taking me to show that people shouldn’t steal from the club?” she asked, and he thought he saw a glint of understanding in her eyes. Finally.

  “It’s a fuckin’ miracle, she gets it,” he muttered to no one, throwing up his hands. “Your brother’s lucky, because I wanna stick my dick in you more than I wanna kill him. Otherwise this wouldn’t be worth the trouble. If Jeff-hole gets his shit together and pays back the club I might let you go—when I’m done with you. If he doesn’t, then I’ll find some other use for you. Got it?”

  Let her go? Not likely. Still, he had to play out the game. At some point she’d talk to her brother again, and when she did, dickwad needed to hear the right message.

  “No games, no bullshit,” he said. He stepped away, trying to calm down, then turned back toward her. She looked terrified, clutching her hands together, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly he felt like an asshole. “You do this, it’s your choice. I’m not raping you. You’re making a decision to pay for your brother’s mistake on your back. You get me?”

  She stared at him, eyes full of condemnation. That shamed him, and he didn’t like the feeling. Anger felt better.

  “I’m serious,” Horse said, glaring at her, daring her to defy him. Fighting would be better than just watching her silently sucking it up for her brother. Hell, he liked fighting with her. Made his dick stand up and take notice. “You call it off any time you want. I’m not gonna lock you up and watch you every minute. You make this deal, it’s up to you to keep it. And you don’t have to make the fucking deal. Your brother’s an idiot and he knew what he was getting into. This isn’t your mess and it’s not your job to bail him out.”

  “You trying to talk me out of it?” she asked with quiet dignity. “Well, you can’t. I meant what I said. I’d do anything for Jeff. Anything.”

  Horse clenched his jaw and spun away from her, needing some kind of outlet for his anger and frustration before he did something really stupid. He kicked one of the trees and the throbbing pain in his foot helped him focus.

  What exactly did he want from her, anyway? He needed her in his bed, in his house. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t end up there on her own. Was it his fault her brother was the biggest idiot on earth? Horse was offering them a lifeline, yet she judged him for it. Again. Just like she’d judged him for offering her a place as his old lady.

  Stupid woman didn’t have the first clue what she needed but he’d give it to her anyway.

  Hopefully ten times a day.

  Horse watched as Marie dug through her closet. The room felt too small, he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t help that every time she leaned over, her shirt rode up and her pants pulled down, exposing the black line of a thong he wanted to rip off her body with his teeth.

  His cock had gone from hard to painfully swollen. He adjusted it, trying to find a comfortable position, but the only place it wanted to be was pumping between her legs. Determined to drive him crazy, her ass wiggled at him every few seconds until he started to seriously wonder if he’d come in his pants. Marie pulled out a shoebox and tossed it on the bed. It spilled open and he sat down and flipped through the photos, desperate for a distraction. He saw shots of her when she was a teen, her and Jeff decked out in swimsuits as kids, arms around each other. There was a picture of her at a school dance… And there was her wedding picture.

  Shit.

  He pulled it out, noting the streaks of dried blood staining it. So this was Gary. The guy looked like every played-out, high school jock-turned-bully on earth. Big and meaty, he probably ran to fat now that he didn’t have a coach to kick his butt. He looked like an asshole, holding the sweet and delicate Marie in his hands like some kind of coun
ty fair prize. Marie was gorgeous, but way the fuck too young. She wore a simple white dress and held a bouquet of daffodils. Douchebag wasn’t even wearing a suit. Everything screamed cheap-wedding-between-kids-way-too-young, but Horse still felt a powerful wave of jealousy.

  Gary had taken that pretty girl in the picture home, pulled off her dress and fucked her.

  Should’ve killed the man when he had the chance.

  Horse glanced over at Marie, who was still digging through the closet. Her thong teased him and he realized that she’d probably bought the damned thing for Gary—and she still had the picture of them together. The wave of jealousy turned tsunami, and Horse had a sudden vision of her meeting up with Gary, of him trying to change her mind about leaving. Women got back together with losers all the time.

  “You wear that shit for him?” he asked, holding up the wedding picture. She looked blank.

  “That butt floss,” he snapped. “Why the fuck are you wearing a thong to work at a daycare? Are you seeing him again?”

  “No!” she said, eyes wide. “I haven’t seen him since that last time, you should know that. He hasn’t called me, nothing. When I get all the papers ready, Denise’s husband said he’d serve them for me.”

  Horse grunted, trying not to lose it. Of course she hadn’t seen him again, the man beat the shit out of her. Marie wasn’t stupid. And what about the asshole who’s kidnapping her? Horse wondered. What does she think of me? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the thong again—once they got home, he’d take her to Victoria’s Secret, get her all new shit. None of Gary’s sloppy seconds in his house.

  “You keeping this?” he asked, looking at the picture.

  “Yes,” she replied. “I don’t want to forget, at least not yet.”

  He dropped the picture, disgusted, watching as she moved to her dresser. Every time she reached up, he caught flashes of her tiny little waist, swelling down into hips built to cradle his. Her figure was the ideal combination of small and curvy, every part adding up to perfection.

  Horse wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He needed a taste, just a taste. Now. He got up and stood behind her, taking her hips and pulling them back into his. Horse rubbed his cock against her butt, so aroused it caused him physical pain. He leaned into her, smelling her hair. Impossibly, his dick got harder.

  This woman was going to kill him.

  “I love how your hair smells,” he muttered. He wondered what it would feel like trailing across his chest or wrapped around his cock. Better put that one on the list too.

  Marie tensed.

  “I have ten minutes left,” she said, her voice full of strain. “Please.”

  That pissed him off, spinning him out of control. How much more of this did he have to take? She belonged to him now, he’d paid fifty fucking thousand dollars for her. Hell, he’d even gone to the mat to save her worthless brother from the club. He’d offered her everything he had and she’d thrown it back in his face.

  Horse let go of her hip, reaching up to grab that hair and twisting her head around to the side. He covered it with his mouth, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to thrust his cock down into her cunt—hard and fast, without mercy. She moaned, collapsing against him, and he slid his other hand down her stomach to her pants, ripping them open. Then his fingers plunged into her pussy. He pulled back, wanting to see her face, watching as her breath came faster and she flushed with desire and need. The sight gave him savage satisfaction.

  Marie was his property now.

  “This pussy,” Horse said, fingering her roughly. “This pussy is mine. You are mine. I’ll fuck you when and where I want, and you can either take it or get the fuck out. Are we clear?”

  ”Yes,” Marie whispered, shivering as her eyes dilated. He felt how close she was to release, the flesh between her legs tightening. He took her mouth one more time, punishing her with his tongue and his fingers, dancing right on the edge. She thrust her hips at him and he ended the kiss, dropping his lips to her neck, licking and sucking, wanting to mark her for everyone to see.

  He bit her and she moaned. Loud.

  Gloating, Horse pulled his hand out of her pants and stepped back. His cock was like a pillar of granite and his heart beat so hard he could feel it pounding in his forehead, but he’d sent her a message about who was in charge. He lifted his fingers, slowly licking off her sweet juices.

  “Don’t care how good you taste, you don’t call the shots,” he whispered. “We clear?”

  She nodded, flushed and needy, still quivering.

  “Your rules,” she whispered back. “Or I leave. And what happens if I do?”

  He forced his features to stay smooth.

  “To you? Nothing,” he said, but he knew better. If she left him, he’d hunt her down and drag her back home by the hair if he had to. “You’re with me of your own free will. But the club has to be paid in blood, Marie, not even I control that. Don’t forget.”

  ”Okay.”

  He pushed her gently out of the way as he reached into the lingerie drawer, pulling out panties, bras and a teddy. He thought about Gary’s hands on her, stripping these scraps of lace off her perfect body, and wanted to rip them apart with his bare hands. Instead he tossed them on the floor.

  “You won’t need these.”

  He saw something tucked in the back, black fabric with Reaper colors. What the hell? He reached in, grabbing it. It was his t-shirt, he realized, with something wrapped inside it. She’d kept it. He pulled the bundle out and turned to Marie.

  She blushed, holding out a hand.

  Horse shook his head slowly and started unrolling. What he saw nearly sent his cock punching through his jeans. It was a vibrator, and a beast at that. Not too long, but it split into two parts, one clearly designed to go inside and stimulate a woman’s G-spot, the other for her clit.

  Marie kept her toy wrapped in his t-shirt.

  Oh yeah. He owned her now.

  “Pack the shit and the toy,” he said, barely able to get the words out. What would she look like, using that thing on herself? He couldn’t wait to find out.

  She threw everything into her backpack and zipped it shut, throwing it over her shoulder.

  “That it?” he asked. “You want anything else from the living room or kitchen? It won’t be here if you try to come back.” It’ll be burned to a crisp, along with any evidence your brother might have hidden here.

  Marie shook her head, blushing fiercely. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear, “Next time you want to play with your pretty pink toy, you do it while I’m watching. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you wear the tee. Got it?”

  Marie nodded. Horse took her arm and pulled her through the living room, past Jeff and his brother Reapers, out to his bike.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marie

  The ride to Coeur d’Alene surprised me.

  For one, it seemed to take forever because riding on the bike was work. I had to hold on and pay attention the whole way and given all I’d gone through that day, it wiped me out.

  On the positive side, I didn’t have to talk to Horse.

  We stopped twice at rest areas so I could pee and Horse could make phone calls. I watched him, feeling naked without my phone. They’d taken it from me, along with my car keys, and I didn’t get the impression I’d be getting it back. Horse didn’t tell me what the calls were about and I didn’t ask. I also didn’t know where the other Reapers were or how my brother was doing. All I cared about was staying upright on the bike.

  By the time we pulled off the freeway in Coeur d’Alene it was dark. I didn’t pay attention to where we went or our route. I did notice that we drove through several populated neighborhoods near a very big lake before turning off on a narrow road through the woods. Buildings grew sparse. Horse pulled up to an old farmhouse, complete with quaint-looking outbuildings and a big red barn.

  So not what I expected from a biker.

  Horse cut the engine and
I got off stiffly, trying to stretch.

  “Is this your place?”

  “Bought it three years ago,” he replied, walking past me toward the wide, covered porch, which had a swing, for God’s sake. Like something on a country postcard. It wasn’t fancy or big, but it was very well cared for and I suspected it had been painted within the last year or so.

  I grabbed my backpack and followed him through the front door. I found myself in a living room furnished in what could only be called “man cave”. Big flat-screen, giant comfy L-shaped couch, four different remotes on the coffee table and a poster on the wall of a naked woman straddling a motorcycle backward, flat on her stomach and cheek resting on the back seat.

  I hadn’t known bikes and human women could have sexual intercourse, but that was the clear implication. Lovely.

  There was a hallway going straight back to what I assumed was the kitchen. A flight of stairs hugged the left wall of the house, which is where Horse headed. I really, really didn’t want to follow him.

  “Get your ass up here.”

  All-righty then.

  I trailed him up the wooden stairs, which were covered in the center with a runner so old you couldn’t even tell what the original pattern had been. Horse flipped on the light and stood on a landing big enough to run the full width of the house, waiting for me. A person could’ve put some chairs and a little table in there, but he just had boxes piled around. Three doors led to other rooms, two toward the back of the house and one toward the front. He pointed toward the front room.

  “That’s mine. Stay the fuck out of it unless you’re invited.”

  “Okay.”

  “This one’s the bathroom, here’s your bedroom. There’s another bathroom downstairs if you need it, next to the kitchen. Don’t flush the toilet if someone’s in the shower, the pipes are old. Go put your shit away and meet me downstairs. I’m hungry.”

  I had a vision of him showering and me deliberately flushing, suddenly burning him. Maybe I’m a bad person but it made me smile. Horse narrowed his eyes at me, suspicious. I ignored him and went into my room. It was small and plain, with aged and scuffed wood floors, cream-colored walls with old-fashioned trim and two sash windows. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space, covered with very modern bedding—you know the type, one of those bed-in-a-bag things with a giant fluffy comforter that you can get for cheap at Walmart. There was a small dresser against the wall opposite the door with a mirror. A small closet stood open on the right.