Heathen: Oath Keepers MC

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Heathen: Oath Keepers MC Page 8

by Sapphire Knight


  Chaos asks, “You have a spot picked out for us?”

  Viking shakes his head, taking a hefty gulp of his bottled water. “I know it’s on the border. We’ll hear more before we head out. Spider’s checking in with me on it daily.”

  We sit back, getting quiet, lost in our thoughts of what’s to come.

  He finishes. “If there’s nothing else, let’s get the fuck out of here. We’ve all got plenty of shit to do, I’m sure. I sure as fuck do.”

  Various brothers nod.

  “Before we clear out, I need to know if everyone’s on board with this Mexico business.” He peers around the table. “My vote is aye.”

  Odin: “Aye.”

  Me: “Aye.”

  Torch: “I should be going,” he grunts. “I’m the death dealer, it’s my job, but I respect your orders, so you’ll get an aye from me.”

  Nightmare: “I’ve got your back. Always. I say we fuck them all up for good. My vote is fuck, yes.”

  Chaos: “Aye, brother.”

  Smokey coughs out an, “Aye. I’ll look after your women.” I roll my eyes. The dude is an ancient pervert. He’s always been that way.

  Saint: “Aye.”

  Sinner: “Aye.”

  Mercenary: “Aye.”

  Viking lifts the gavel. “It’s done. Now get the fuck out.” He slams it down, the noise echoing through the small room Viking’s designated strictly for church.

  We make our way into the bar. Usually, we drink and celebrate a bit after we have church, but in this case, most of the brothers take their leave to go find their respective women.

  “You good?” I ask Torch, and he shrugs, plopping down on the leather couch. Honey rushes over with a couple of beers.

  “Thanks, babe,” I acknowledge, and she preens.

  She goes to sit down, but Torch sends her a death glare, and she scatters.

  “You’re in a mood,” I comment. He’s never one for Honey’s company, but he usually keeps his issues to himself so she can hang on another brother.

  “I could do more if I was riding out with the club. I should have Viking’s back on this, not leashed up like the club’s fucking dog.”

  “I get it. I’m usually the one ordered to stay behind. I’d be too distracted if I was here with Amelia. Besides, you can protect the compound better than I was ever able to. I used to think my spot was useless, but it’s not. You keep everything we care about safe. If it’s Viking you’re worrying about, well, he’ll do whatever he wants, regardless if you’re there or not.”

  “You want me to kill the principal and get her out of the way for you?” he probes, and my protective instinct flares. That’s the last thing I want at the moment.

  It must be all the time I’ve spent with Princess over the years that’s made me feel this way inside over hurting women. I wouldn’t have cared much in the past—out of sight, out of mind. That doesn’t seem to be the case now, though. Anything happening to Amelia Stone has me wanting to hurt someone, and that detail freaks me the fuck out.

  “I’ve got her. Speaking of, I need to talk to Princess. I’ll catch you later.”

  He nods, letting me go without saying anything else.

  I head for Viking’s office. Princess is in there painting her toenails. The smell makes me cringe; that shit has to be toxic. I’ll never understand how females can sit and inhale that crap and not catch a contact high.

  “’Sup, P.”

  “Hey. You guys are done with church already?”

  I nod.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  Her brows raise, and she stares at me, waiting.

  I admit, “The principal needs to shower…she hasn’t since I brought her here.”

  “Uh, and why can’t you help her?”

  “I’m trying to give her space.” I shrug.

  “Is she still fighting with you? Wait a second…have you touched her?”

  I shake my head.

  “Not at all?” she questions, her eyes widening with shock.

  I choke out a quick, gruff, “No.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t slept with her already. You sleep with everyone! Well, anyone who isn’t an ol’ lady anyway. Has she friend-zoned you or something?”

  With a groan, I swipe my hand over my face. I mutter a dejected, “Of course I’m not friend-zoned, damn it.”

  “She really has you shaken up, huh?” Her lips twist into a smirk. She’s loving this shit.

  “Amelia has this perception that men like me are her enemy. I already told you all of this shit the other day.”

  “And let me guess, you’re trying to prove her wrong?”

  I nod, sending her an incredulous look. “Yep, she is wrong.”

  “I know she is.” Princess easily agrees, her smirk turning to a serious frown. “But you’re being too soft on her.” She pauses to blow on her nails for a beat then continues. “A woman like her, from what you’ve told me, needs to be pushed. You need to cross her boundaries, not tiptoe around them. She needs to be challenged, or she’ll get bored…just like you.”

  “I’m liable to scar her for life or some shit.”

  She snorts, rolling her eyes. She’s like a bratty younger sister sometimes. “What’s so different about her, Blaze? You’ve never blinked in the past when it’s come to women. You sleep with a different one every chance you get. Even I know that. Now this one, you have in your bed for multiple days, and you haven’t so much as touched her?”

  “I’ve never given a fuck before.” The words rush from me, exasperated. “I go for a piece of ass because that’s what I want.”

  “And you don’t want that from her?”

  “Of course, I do. I mean…fuck! That didn’t come out right.” I shake my head, tapping my fingers on my jean-clad thigh. How can I say this without sounding like a dick?

  “She has you twisted,” Princess quietly resolves.

  P’s completely right. I concede, releasing a sigh. “I need you to push her for me.”

  She grins, closing her polish bottle and stands. “I think I have something in mind.”

  I watch as she rounds Viking’s enormous desk and digs through a drawer, careful not to jack up her nails. She finds what she’s looking for, closes the drawer, and steps back around wearing a wide smile.

  “What is it?” I ask, and she holds her hand in my sight. She palms a black and red ball gag. I should invest in one of these—can’t say I’m surprised to see Vike has one in his office.

  “I’m going to take her voice from her and make her feel. She’ll shower, but I’m going to have some fun with her too.”

  “You better not piss your ol’ man off. I’ll be the one who pays for it, and cousin or not, he still hits fucking hard.”

  Her tinkle of a laugh rings through the office, glee filling her at my possible ass kicking. “I’ll let him know what I have in mind, so he won’t hurt you…not too bad, anyhow.”

  I rake my hand through my blond locks and mutter, “Great…just great.”

  “Hey, you want me to get her all shaken up, right? And I’m not a man, so she can’t blame her emotions on that cop-out. Maybe we should’ve gone about this differently when you brought her in. Let me mess with her, and you’ll look like the hero.”

  “Don’t fuck her up, P. She already jacked her wrists to shit.”

  She giggles, delight shining in her gaze. “I won’t, she’ll be shaken up, but not from violence. Trust me.”

  “I do,” I reply, and it’s the truth. This chick is like my little sister. Now, what she’ll do with Amelia is another thing altogether. Princess can be sweet or a hellion depending on her mood. I’ve witnessed firsthand her try and shoot her ol’ man when he pissed her off enough. I wouldn’t put it past her to hurt a bitch who’s been screwing with members of the club. That’s toying with her family, and she’s protective of us all.

  “I’ll take care of her, don’t you worry.” She winks, and I
cringe a little at her term.

  “Don’t shoot her,” I grumble.

  “I won’t, I’m bringing the gag so she can’t sass me. No need to worry about me hurting her.”

  I nod. She grins broadly and sways her hips as she leaves me in the office alone, wondering what in the hell her plan is. The bitch is crazy, so Amelia’s in for it, that much I already know.

  Chapter 9

  Amelia

  I must’ve dozed off as I’m awoken by my head being moved. My lids part expecting Blaze, but I meet a stunning woman’s gaze instead. She’s leaning over me, pushing something between my lips. Before I can get my wits and protest, she’s snapped it in place. Her icy pale platinum locks tickle my skin. Her hair must be long enough to touch her behind, and she’s someone I’d expect to see on a runway, not in a biker club. Her ample chest brushes my forehead as she leans in closer to check over my wrists.

  “Hmm, he didn’t do too bad, I suppose,” she comments, more to herself.

  She leans away, lightly brushing her fingertips over my cheek. She’s got some sort of gag in place, and I’m doing my best to not freak out and overreact just yet. I won’t lie, the presence of another woman is comforting. I know that’s ignorant of me to experience any sort of comfort in this place, but I can’t help but feel a touch of hope she’ll have pity on my situation.

  “You’re a beauty. No wonder why these men don’t know how to deal with you,” she murmurs.

  I swallow, my throat growing dry. Maybe my hope was misplaced, and I should be wary of her instead. It’s not as if I can ask her for help or anything. The gag she’s put in place has made sure of it. Was this Blaze’s idea, or is she acting all on her own?

  “My brother doesn’t want to touch you, but I think that’s what you need the most.” She winks, and I shake my head no. “You don’t think so?” She raises a brow, and I shake my head again. A tinkling laugh escapes her, and she leans in, brushing her nose against mine.

  “Mm-mm, too bad I don’t have the patience Blaze does. I could have a lot of fun with you. It’s been a while since I’ve had a woman.”

  I don’t know what to think of that comment. I’ve never looked at other women sexually. I mean, sure, I’ve noticed when they were curvy or beautiful, but I haven’t thought of them sexually in the past. Thinking of her, in that sense, has my thighs surprisingly pressing together.

  She loosens my leg ties enough so I can spread them about a foot apart. Moving to the closest side of the bed, she grabs below my wrists. “I’m helping you up and taking you to the shower. You’ve been lying here in Blaze’s bed, and you’re starting to smell like him. It’s time we get you cleaned up, so he notices you’re a woman again.”

  I squint at her, not understanding her meaning or why she cares. She helps pull me up, wrapping her arms around my waist. She takes small steps so I can slowly shuffle toward the bathroom. I’d be outraged right now if it were a man holding my naked body like this, but the fact that she’s a woman has me less tense.

  “You need to be cleaned up and looking sexy for him, so he breaks his rule of not touching you.”

  I shake my head adamantly. I don’t want that. Not at all. I wish I could talk, but I can’t. I settle for making a displeased grumble sound around the ball in my mouth. She leans over a bit and turns the shower knob; it blasts the cold water into the tub, and I patiently watch as she keeps her hand under the water until she deems it a decent temperature. This is going to be awkward; I haven’t had any help in this department since I was a child. Unless she unties me, all I can do once I’m in there is rinse off. I guess it’s better than nothing, though. The woman grabs my wrists, careful not to touch the injured area and removes the bandages.

  “We’ll clean your wrists up after you shower and rewrap them, so they don’t get infected.”

  I nod, wishing she’d take this thing off my face. She runs her hands through my hair, humming. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me like that.

  “I love this color. Is it yours?”

  I nod again, not able to do much more. This is the strangest situation. I think she’s trying to make me feel comfortable, but she keeps touching me, and it has me alert of every spot she grazes. My eyes grow wide as she begins to peel her clothes off as well. I make a whimpering sound, and she smiles softly.

  “I’m not getting my clothes soaked. You won’t be able to get in there by yourself, so we’ll both be nakey.” She giggles again and winks, clearly amused by my modesty. I’ve been stark naked for days now, but only in front of Blaze.

  Tears build in my gaze. I’m not sure why. With Blaze, I fight against them, but around her, they crest so easily. I’m feeling too many things at once that it’s overwhelming.

  Her forehead scrunches. “Oh, honey. Shh, I won’t hurt you as long as you behave yourself. Just relax. I’m here to help you be more comfortable. I know it’s hard to believe anything in this situation, but you can trust me.” Her voice grows serious as she declares, “However, I won’t free you or anything like that, so don’t get that false fantasy mixed with my kindness.”

  My tears fall at her admission. Of course, I’d had it buried in me somewhere that a woman would free me. I was wrong. Obviously, she’s devoted to the bikers, or else I doubt Blaze would’ve allowed her in here with me. The knowledge is disheartening. It makes me feel like he was telling me the truth when he said no one outside this room would help me. I don’t know how I’m going to get myself out of this mess. Where do I even begin?

  I watch as she steps under the water. She’s completely comfortable with her nudity, and I can understand why. She’s gorgeous. The human body is an amazing thing, and hers was no doubt created as a temptation for everyone. I can’t help but wonder if she’s this way naturally or if she’s undergone surgeries to look as she does. It’s shallow to think that way, but I can’t help but wonder. Her chest is overly full and perkier than mine. Her waist is tiny, and her hips are the perfect width that, when she walks, I’m sure she has everyone’s attention.

  I try not to stare too openly, though I find myself desiring to do so. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I never act this way toward women. It must be the circumstances.

  “Step up inside the tub, and I’ll hold onto you, so you don’t slip and fall,” she instructs, reaching for me again.

  I do as she says, shuffling the few paces closer to the shower and step inside, right in front of her. The water beats down on my bed sore body. Jesus, I had no idea how much I needed this until now. It feels wonderful, even if I am kidnapped and tied up. Now, if I could brush my teeth as well, I’d be feeling even better.

  The water runs over my back, and I close my eyes, tipping my head back under the warm relief. My hair has been itchy all mussed up from the bed, and this is a sweet relief. The warm droplets feel divine peppering against my scalp.

  “I’m going to wash you now.”

  That’s something I wasn’t expecting. I keep my eyes closed but nod, wanting this grimy feeling on my body to go away. I hear the snap of her opening and closing bottles. I wish I knew what to call her, rather than just the woman…even if it’s only to myself in my head. I thought it was difficult being tied up, but taking my voice away as well has me scatterbrained. It’s hard to think and concentrate on anything when all I want to do is speak.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” she orders and has me take a step forward, out of the spray. It still powers down on my behind, just not over my hair or shoulders.

  I don’t know how she could know that I need my head scratched. I can’t gesture to anything, as I have my back to her. I do as she instructs and relish in her fingers, massaging my hair with the shampoo. The clean scent fills the shower, and I find myself feeling grateful for her touch, for her kindness. I groan around the gag. I can’t thank her, but at least she’ll know I’m enjoying the light scratch of her nails and soft massage of my scalp. I wonder if she’s done this in the past with others. I can’t think like that. I can’t go
there now, or I’ll freak myself out all over again.

  Her hands pull my shoulders until I step back under the full spray, and then she’s running her fingertips through my hair, rinsing it clean. When she’s satisfied with it, she pushes me forward again, tugging a comb through to release the knots. More snaps of a bottle opening and closing, then her small hands are rubbing soap over my shoulders. She massages as she goes, my head falling forward to hang with the amazing feelings she’s eliciting throughout my tense, sore muscles.

  I groan again, louder this time, and she chuckles behind me. “You must be aching,” she mentions and rubs over my back, paying special attention to where my neck and shoulders meet.

  I draw in a quick breath in the next second when her hands come around the front of my body, further alarming me. She hugs me from behind, her breasts pressing against my back. She builds up the suds against my belly before moving upwards to run her fingers over my chest. She palms my breasts, massaging, then rubbing her palms lightly across my nipples repeatedly. The sensations are intense, especially mixed in with the steam and heat from the water. When was the last time I was touched like this? If ever? I can’t remember, and I can’t do a thing to stop it. I bite down on the ball, understanding why it was put in place.

  “You have perfect tits,” she compliments breathily, her lips close to my earlobe. “I couldn’t stop staring at them when I noticed you lying in Blaze’s bed, napping. I knew I had to touch them.”

  My thighs squeeze against each other. I shouldn’t be feeling so turned on by another woman, but I can’t deny what she’s doing to my body with her soft touch. My head falls back a bit once more, needing to draw in a deep breath. If my mouth were free of the gag, I’d most likely be panting at this point. My temperature’s on fire.

  Her hands shift lower, passing over my belly button again; they seem to keep growing sudsier. Then she’s moving farther south and cupping between my thighs. I suck in a quick, shaky breath at her touch. My legs part, without much internal protest, surprisingly. Part of me wants to protest that this is all so wrong, but I’ve been kidnapped—regular words and thoughts don’t count here. Nothing is in my control, and that’s both terrifying and freeing.

 

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