“Hey, all women could think you’re a heathen, instead of only one.” He shrugs like it makes total sense, and I scowl. “There’s always Honey, brother. She can never get her fill of you.”
“True,” I concede, grouchy over this entire conversation, or maybe just in general. “I think I’ll have P go talk or maybe even knock some sense into the uppity bitch while Honey sucks my cock.”
“Sounds like win-win to me, Blaze.”
I nod, feeling better already. Just the thought of my cock in a sexy female’s mouth gets me excited. But not just any woman. I want it stuffed between ol’ principal’s lips while she hums in pleasure. Now that’s one hell of a thought.
“Have you seen Vike’s woman around, or is she at the house?” I pour a shot of whiskey and throw it back. I usually know where Princess is more than anyone else here, aside from her ol’ man, but I’ve been preoccupied with my own shit today.
“Last I saw she was headed for Viking’s office.”
“I’ll finish my beer then. They’re probably fuckin’.”
“Definitely fucking,” he agrees and takes a swig of his beer.
Mercenary and Chaos join us. Merc sits next to Odin and Chaos next to me. “Brothers,” we greet one another.
“What’s up?” I ask no one in particular.
“Not much,” Chaos replies while Mercenary orders something from Frost and bitches that he wants French fries. “You good, brother?” he asks.
“I’m straight, just needing to speak with P. Heard she’s in the office with her ol’ man, though, and don’t want to interrupt that meeting.”
He nods. “I get it. I just saw them, though, and they still had all their clothes on,” he chuckles, signaling for a beer.
“In that case, I’m going to go catch them before it changes, and they’re tucked away for a hefty part of the day.”
“Probably a good idea,” he agrees.
I say my goodbyes, making my way to our prez’s office.
The door’s wide open, and I find Princess sitting on her ol’ man’s lap. Thankfully they aren’t going at it. Not that I haven’t seen it in the past, I just need to speak to her. “Hey.” I poke my head in the door and lightly rap on the thick barrier.
Vike chin-lifts, inviting me inside. “Brother?” he asks as I plop down on the couch and make myself comfortable.
“I needed your wife’s advice if you don’t mind.”
“Ah.” He lovingly smacks her thigh, making her grin.
P pecks a kiss to his cheek. “How about you go eat a piece of that cake before it’s all gone and you’re left pouting until I bake another? There’s also fried chicken from last night.”
“I don’t pout,” he grumbles like an embarrassed kid.
She smiles. “Of course not. I was in the kitchen earlier, and there were only two slices left.”
“Fine.” He exhales the word and moves to stand. He mumbles, “Don’t see why you can’t just leave it at home anyway.”
“‘Cause, you’ll eat it all and then complain about not getting enough gym time.”
Viking gives her a look but doesn’t argue. He knows she’s got his ass pegged. He presses a kiss to her forehead and fist bumps me on his way out. His desk is massive, making Princess appear tiny sitting behind it. With my fam’ no longer distracting his wife, I make myself more comfortable by stuffing pillows behind me and dive in, telling her everything.
***
Once my cock has been sated, and I can finally relax a bit, I head back to my room. I never came back to check on my mouthy captive, although it was probably for the best. We both needed some time to stew in our thoughts and chill out. I gave her a hefty dose of some mixed-up doping cocktail from the doc, so she most likely dozed off and on for the remainder of the day. Those types of drugs always make people drowsy and nauseous. I could maybe chalk that up to her motherfuckin’ heathen comment, but something inside me says she’d call me that no matter what.
I’m quiet when I enter the now dark area. Only my bathroom light remains on. I should’ve checked in on her to see if she at least needed a restroom break. In the past, when I’ve kidnapped chicks, I’d never offered them anything. I’d just locked them up in a dog cage and let Joker do what he pleased with ‘em. He’d eventually have his fill and pass them on to the remaining members who were interested in having their turn.
I’m determined to do it differently this time around. I won’t put her in a cage unless she becomes too much to handle. I seriously doubt that will happen, although she’s got a mouth on her, but she’s not unruly physically. I’m not going to fuck her unless she asks me for it, either. I refuse to have that on my conscious, and besides, it’d just feed into her misconstrued notions on all white men being the devil. This shit being plastered across social media recently that men are the enemy is ridiculous. After seeing what she had in her house and on her devices, she clearly believes some of that crazy horseshit.
Peeling my clothes off, I slide into bed next to her warm, motionless frame. She’s sleeping soundly. Wouldn’t surprise me if she needed the drugs just so she could get some decent sleep like this. She seems to have the stick so far up her ass that it’d make her sleep-deprived and feed into her bitchiness.
Hauling the down comforter over us, I lay next to her, naked and restless. I had my cock sucked earlier, and I thought it’d sated me, but being this close to Amelia has my body saying otherwise. She’s far too perfect looking to be tucked into my bed without any of her clothes on. I’ll have to grit through it though, cause she’s not getting them back. Ever. The suit was hot, but she used it as a tool—like a mask—to help her keep up that “too good” persona. Leaving her naked and exposed keeps her vulnerable and me in control that much more.
With the shit she’s already said, the least I deserve is something sexy to look at in the process. I told ol’ Florence that I’d keep Amelia away for about two weeks on vacation, but who knows when I’ll really let her go back. It all depends on her and how long she holds out on this built-up animosity toward men and her despising bikers attitude. If I can get her on our side, then I’ll let her loose sooner than later. If not...well, I hate to see what becomes of her if she attempts to cause any more issues for the club. The MC doesn’t condone violence against women, but a problem is a problem, and she’ll disappear somehow. I’m sure it’ll be by my hand too; I’m good at cleaning up messes.
With that thought, my eyes close, and I drift off, exhausted from a hard day’s work.
Chapter 7
Amelia
I’m lying in Blaze’s bed, having attempted to get my ties loose. I’ve failed miserably so far. It’s hard doing anything without wiggling and shaking the bed too much. I figured now was my best chance. Who knows what Blaze has in store for me once he wakes up. I’m finally awake enough to concentrate, having slept many hours yesterday and last night. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much rest, probably sometime before I went off to college. I struggled with my restraints yesterday, eager to get free, but it was a lost cause. I was too out of it to get anywhere with anything.
So here I am, jerking and biting at the rope that’s tightly wound around my wrists. Each time Blaze’s soft snoring pauses, my body tenses, hoping he remains asleep. It’s frustrating and painful as the coarse threads dig into my sensitive skin. They’re no longer pink, but an angry, raw red. Blood’s gathered, peppering my skin, just waiting for me to rub against it once more to release the droplets. I’d like to believe this day couldn’t get any worse, but that would be foolish. I’m assuming I’m in a motorcycle club facility of some sort, though Blaze hasn’t admitted as much. With that in mind, anything could happen to me.
Maybe getting free isn’t a good idea, as I don’t know what’s waiting for me outside this room. It’s a chance I must take, though, fearing they may want to kill me at some point. Though, if I try to be rational about it and believe him, he claimed yesterday that my treatment is up to my behavior. If they wanted me
dead, wouldn’t I already be that way? And he told me he wouldn’t force himself on me. So far, he’s held true to that as well. It’s hard for me to trust anything he says, though. His actions, in the end, will determine that, I suppose.
I don’t understand it. Why would he kidnap me? I don’t have a lot of money in my bank account, and my parents aren’t wealthy. I’m not worth much to anyone. It doesn’t make sense. If I can’t break free of these wrist ties, I’m going to ask him exactly that when he wakes up. I’d turned on my side away from him, but not before I’d gotten an eyeful of his bare chest. And what a chest; geez, the man must be carved from stone or something.
I can’t believe I’m even going there; the guy kidnapped me. I refuse to fall victim to Stockholm Syndrome. Besides, he’s an infuriating big-headed bastard.
He shifts, moving the bed with him, and then I’m weighed down by a massive arm. I say that because his bicep is like three of mine put together. No wonder the uncouth beast is so sure of himself when it comes to fighting someone off. However, that fact doesn’t mean I’d ever admit it to him. The last thing he needs is for me to say he’s right about anything.
Blaze’s arm is warm with its resting weight, and when he turns into me more, he heats my exposed back as well. The appendage rests there for a moment before he’s using it to turn my body toward him. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, that he’d interrupt me from getting my binding free. Holding my breath, I can’t help but peek at his face, trying to gauge how much his sleeping has been disturbed. He’s silent, his breaths coming a bit quicker than before. In this position, I can’t help but inhale deeply and catch his manly scent. If the circumstances were any different, I’d revel in the smell, but not here, nor now.
With a drowsy grumble, he murmurs, “Tuck into my chest; you’ll be warmer that way.”
He wants me closer? Does he even know what he’s telling me right now? This guy is ridiculously confusing.
At first, I’m completely still. I want him to go back to sleep as quickly as possible to leave me to my plans. After a moment of my noncompliance, his big paw wraps more securely around my back, bringing me closer to his form. The realization hits me that we’re both completely naked in his bed. I won’t let him worm his way into having sex with me, and by the thick appendage pressed against my leg, he clearly enjoys morning sex. I have to get away. I won’t allow him to have me without a fight.
I begin to squirm, doing whatever I can to attempt to work my way out of his grip and away from his sinfully tempting bulk. Warm body or not, I won’t openly allow him to touch me—ever. He’s taken far too many liberties as it is witnessing me naked, kidnapping me and barking at me as if I’m his property to do with as he pleases. The man has nerve like no other.
My jiggling around stirs him further, and his lids slowly part, his baby blues meeting my own terrified gaze. I panic, trying to come up with something to say to distract him from what I was attempting to do. I don’t want him to find out I was trying to escape and freak out on me or kill me for disobeying him.
“What are you doing?” I manage to choke out, light-headed from holding my breath and chewing on the rope. My teeth hurt, and I think the rope scratched my tongue.
He’s grabbing for me, then holding me to him in his strong grip. Some may find enjoyment being held by a big man, but not me. The move only frightens me even more than I already am. Will this be the day he forces himself on me?
His azure irises take in my face and my unwelcoming expression. He clears his throat and gruffly admits, “You were shaking.” His shoulders bounce. “Your skin’s cold. I was keeping you warm.” He says it so bluntly that I almost believe that he didn’t have an ulterior motive. This is a man, though; of course, he has a motive. At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past him. I underestimated him before, and I can’t afford to make that mistake twice.
“I was shaking because you kidnapped me!” I huff, peeved at his simple explanation. “I’m cold because you keep the air conditioning ridiculously low in here, and you’ve taken my clothes from me. I was stuck in here all day yesterday without so much as a blanket…of course, I’m cold!” I glare as fiercely as I can manage, but I doubt it intimidates him. Blaze is like a boulder—unflinching and steadfast.
“I covered you up when I came to bed,” he fires back, peering at me like I’m the crazy one. It only fuels my irritation, making me fume inside at his irrational reasoning. I doubt he thinks he’s done anything wrong at all by kidnapping me since he thought to cover me up. I scoff, and his expression turns stern.
“How does that help me all day yesterday? I’ve been chilled since then. At this rate, I may catch hypothermia. So much for not hurting me.”
He scowls. “You’re being overly dramatic. Besides, coming down off strong drugs, you’re usually hot or cold and sweat a lot. I figured you’d be hot and sweaty and want the air and space to detox.” He shrugs. “How was I supposed to know you’d be the opposite?”
“Oh my God,” I murmur, completely outraged. This guy’s unbelievable. “Perhaps you’d have known if you’d thought to come and check on me? What if I had to use the bathroom? What if I’d been attacked?”
His brow raises. “I didn’t hear any screaming; figured you were fine. I wasn’t coming in here yesterday until you’d calmed the fuck down and stopped acting like an entitled bitch.”
His words make something inside me snap. In the next second, I lean forward and bite his chin. I clamp down, wanting to inflict as much damage as possible. I don’t use profanity, but fuck him and the horse he rode in on.
“What the ever-lovin' fuck!” he shouts, jerking back. His hand comes to my face and squeezes my chin and cheeks so hard it brings tears to my eyes, and I release my bite. He gives my face another tight squeeze and flings my head back. I rocket backward with the momentum, and it feels like my neck snaps. “That kind of shit will get you fucked up real quick. You feel me? You hurt me, bitch, and I’ll fuck you up.” His hands ball into fists, and he lets out a terrifying growl. I don’t doubt for a second that he could harm me badly.
Tears stream down my face. I’d done my best yesterday not to let him see me like this, but his hold hurt. I’ve never been a violent person, and harming someone or being injured isn’t fun to me. “Don’t touch me!” I manage to brokenly whisper as tears continue to spill freely.
His forehead scrunches, and his jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. “You moved first; remember that, Miss Fucking Perfect.”
“But I’m a woman a-and you put your hands on me.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Now you want to pull the female card? Let me clue you in. You wanna be treated like a woman? Fuckin’ act like one. You wanna fuck with me? I’ll fuck back. You’re pulling your shit with the wrong type of man, babe.”
I sniff, my tears still falling over my heated cheeks. I bet my nose is bright red and swollen. It always gets like that when I’m upset. I could never hide it well when I cried, and he’s learning it firsthand that I’m easy to read when I’m not in one of my pressed suits behind the counter at work. I don’t have those layers of protection to help me stand apart. I glance down, and it’s the wrong move because he follows my gaze.
"Ah, shit, babe, what’d you do?” He reaches to pull my wrists out towards him so he can get a better look.
I shrug and quietly confess, “I wanted to get them off.” The blood’s risen to the top of my skin, peppering the pale flesh with dots. My struggle moments ago seems to have been the last straw for the area that’s been closely wrapped with rough rope, as droplets of blood run over my arms and underneath.
“Damn it, you hurt yourself. If you’d kept that up, you’d have given yourself scars. The ties would’ve hurt you more, too, and wouldn’t allow those cuts to heal properly. You’re so stubborn…wish you’d just listen to me,” he says with a perturbed exhale.
My teary gaze meets his, and I find myself biting my lip as he reaches up, drying my tears away with his fingers. “Why do
you even care?” I ask, not complaining or shying away from his hands.
His expression softens, “Because, believe it or not, I’ve always been the one to take care of the women. Whether it was kidnapping them and locking them up or else fighting to protect them so much that it nearly kills me. One way or the other, I’ve always been the one responsible for ‘em. You need to decide which one you want me to be when it comes to you. The man that cages the bird or cares for it.”
I swallow, quiet, unsure of what to say. My stare remains glued to him as he climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom. My eyes betray me, stealing a glance at his tantalizing behind. I’m still staring in the same spot when he returns, and I’m rewarded with a quick peek at his member. Of course, his shaft is big; I’d expect nothing less. when it comes to someone as cocky as he is. He has a great butt and an impressive member. It makes me hate him a little more, I think.
He returns with a decent sized first aid kit and sits on the bed directly beside me. He opens the white box and reaches for my hands. His length lies against his leg—imposing, but not completely hard. I want to stare so badly, but I wouldn’t dare allow it. How can he be so brazen with his nakedness? He acts like this is completely normal to just walk around naked and be in front of whoever. Maybe for him, it is. I mean, I do it at home, but I’m alone there.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask. I watch him, curious to see if he knows what he’s doing.
He’s silent as he works. He unwinds gauze, rubs my skin with a few alcohol pads, and pats it dry with the sterile gauze. Once he’s satisfied with cleaning it and wiping the blood away, he applies ointment and then wraps my wounds with more of the gauze. He tears a strip of medical tape using his teeth and utilizes the contaminated tape to secure the bandage on each wrist. Once he has them how he wants, he moves my bindings farther down my arm, so they’re positioned underneath the gauze wraps.
He eventually meets my inquisitive gaze and answers, “Because, regardless of what you may believe, I don’t want you to be in any sort of pain.”
Heathen: Oath Keepers MC Page 6