Buying My Bride: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Wild Aces MC)

by Zoey Parker

  I didn’t want Allison to go. Now that she was gone, probably already having reached her apartment, I could admit that to myself. There was no more danger that if I honestly confessed how I felt about her, I would be too tempted to let her stay. To ask her to stay. And not just for a weekend, but for the rest of our lives.

  A small chuckle escaped me at the thought. “When did you get so mushy?” I asked the empty rooftop.

  I’d still want to be here.

  She said that like she meant it. She hadn’t denied her need for the money, but she still insisted that she wanted to be with me despite it. That had been the catalyst which brought us together, but it wasn’t the reason we were.

  But that wasn’t really the point. I already knew that. I could feel it in the way she moved, the way she responded to me – both as I gave her commands and as I pleasured her naked body.

  God, she was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned with those lovely womanly curves. And she had the silkiest damn skin I’d ever felt. Smooth and pale with dusky pink nipples and that same shade in her pussy. How could a man resist something like that?

  But it didn’t matter how much she wanted to be here or how much I wanted her delectable body. In the end, I had to send her away for her own damn protection.

  I think you’re scared. I’m scared, too. All of this is so new. But I know that I want this. I want you.

  She said things like she knew me. Like she could look into my heart and just know what I was thinking. It was terrifying and amazing all at once. I felt as though I was the one naked, not her, and she could see all of me for what I really was. The good, the bad, the ugly. The things I might try to hide, she looked straight into.

  Her words made my heart pound against my ribs, trying to get out of my chest. Like maybe it could go after her, when I clearly wouldn’t. But it remained firmly beneath my breast, hidden away for safe keeping.

  Except that Allison had already wormed her way into it, infected everything there. She could see inside me, because she was inside me. She lived there, in my heart, whether I wanted her to or not.

  And she was right. I was scared. But maybe not for the reasons she thought.

  She didn’t understand what I’d been through with Sandra. Sandra who had been so naturally submissive, just like Allison. Sandra who’d enjoyed the pleasures and the punishments, just like Allison. Sandra who had wanted this lifestyle, just like Allison.

  The parallels were there, right before my eyes, and yes, I was afraid. I was terrified that I would welcome Allison into my life and we would fall the same way that Sandra and I had.

  I’m afraid that I’ll hurt her, I thought.

  I didn’t blame Allison for fighting to stay. If anything, I thought it was admirable – and incredibly sexy. I wanted her to be with me as much as she seemed to want to be with me, but she didn’t understand the dangers like I did. She didn’t understand that there was every possibility that we could go too far. I could hurt her without even meaning to. She couldn’t possibly know that what I was afraid of was hurting her just like I’d hurt Sandra.

  “How could she know?” I said aloud to the darkening sky.

  And that was when it finally occurred to me. Of course, she couldn’t know the risks involved or why I was afraid – because I hadn’t told her.

  When Allison first walked into my life, I’d explained a little bit about the Dom/sub relationship. I’d told her that it was a strange dynamic of power and control, of give and take. On the surface, it appeared as though the Dom was the one who held all the power. He gave the orders, made the sub do things, or did things to the sub. In a lot of ways, the sub was like a pet to the Dom, being called when he wanted her and sent away when he didn’t. Given chores, and rules, and clothing or collars to wear.

  A lot of people thought that was exactly what it was like to be in a Dom/sub relationship, but they didn’t understand.

  It wasn’t about giving a sub orders, it was about taking care of her. A Dom’s first and biggest job was to do what was right by the sub. If she was uncomfortable with something, then things had to change. If she was unhappy, then things had to change. If she wasn’t getting what she needed from the relationship, then things had to change. It was all about what she needed, not what I wanted, though I obviously got that, too. Instead, I took the control away from her, because she wanted me to. So she didn’t have to worry about it. And in return I provided her with all the love and care that I could.

  The people who hurt their subs didn’t know the first thing about being Doms and when I’d done that to Sandra, I’d gotten out of the game. If I couldn’t do right by her, then I didn’t deserve her. That had been hard, but necessary. But it could never be permanent. I couldn’t live a life of vanilla sex. Of missionary positions. Of the kinkiest thing in bed nothing more than giving a hickey. I’d always known that, but I’d never expected someone like Allison to waltz into my life all of a sudden, everything I’d ever wanted just plopped into my lap all at once like that.

  But she had and she was right, I was running scared.

  She’d caught onto that, but missed the why, and that was my fault. I was supposed to take care of her, but I couldn’t do that if she didn’t understand what was going on. Because that was the control part of the relationship that no one seemed to understand.

  I didn’t have the control; she did.

  If she ever wanted me to stop, I had to stop. If she didn’t like something, I would change it. That was the whole point, but how could she be in control if she didn’t have all the information?

  “I’m an idiot.”

  Shaking my head, I shoved off from the wall and headed toward the fire escape to go back inside.

  I needed to do two things or I’d never forgive myself. First, I needed to tell Allison the truth. That I wanted her here, but was terrified that I might hurt her. Second, I needed to beg her on my hands and knees to take me back, because I wasn’t sure I could live without her now.

  Climbing down the fire escape, I reached the second floor and ducked in. I ran into the room and grabbed my keys, before coming to a complete stop.

  “Shit. I don’t know where she lives.”

  We exchanged emails, numbers, and met at a coffee shop, but I’d never been to her place. And I hadn’t even been planning on taking her to mine. Originally, the plan had been to go to a hotel and have a good time there, that way no one felt as though they were in a bind. Neither party had too much personal information about the other.

  Obviously, that had changed dramatically, given that I’d decided to take her to my place. Now, that was a serious problem because I didn’t know where she was.

  I grabbed my phone and tried calling her. When she didn’t pick up, I tried a text message, but was too impatient to wait for her to respond. I told myself that I was being irrational. She’d see the message sometime and get back to me, but I needed to be with her right now. I needed to explain myself. I felt like it was my only shot at getting her back.

  I headed to the guest room that I’d let her use. Not that she’d spent any time in it, but she had left her stuff there. I was hopeful that maybe she’d also left behind something identifying. A parking ticket, an ID or service card or anything. Something that might have her address on it. It was a long shot, but I was feeling pretty desperate.

  The room looked almost exactly as I’d left it. The bed was made, never used by her. The bathroom was the same. She’d never unpacked, as far as I could tell, and that didn’t do me any favors this time. It meant that the chances of her having left something behind or dropping it were pretty damn slim.

  Still, I tore the place apart. I ripped off the bedding and looked through every cupboard and drawer in the bathroom. I checked the dresser and the closet, even though I doubt she’d even so much as looked in either. I got down on my hands and knees and checked under the bed, but there was nothing there. Not even dust bunnies.

  Damnit!

  How the hell was I supposed to find her if
she didn’t leave anything behind?

  I was about to give up on her leaving anything for me to trace behind when I remembered that on our first night, I’d had her undress.

  “I take care of my subs. Now strip,” I commanded her, settling back to watch as she undressed herself before my very eyes. Excitement rolled through me like an electrical current. I was a live wire, filled with passion and need both, their power making me almost shake.

  She was practically trembling, but she didn’t hesitate to obey me. She reached for her blouse. I’d had to make her wait so that I could sit and get more comfortable. I didn’t want to miss a minute of this. I told her to go slow, “I want time to take in every part of you,” and I meant it. I didn’t want a single part of her to go unseen by my hungry gaze.

  Her skin flushed a lovely red, a blush that I was growing to enjoy intensely. She was so pale for the most part, but that blush brought her to light.

  She reached for her shirt again, dragging it up her body. The fabric was a bright blue fabric that was maybe not her color, but looked good on her none the less. Just not as good as it did coming off her.

  The candles flickered and I drew my eyes over her skin as she slowly pulled her shirt off. Her bra was lacey and black, encasing her perfect, large breasts until they looked like they were ready to spill out over the edges. I loved every part of her as soon as I saw it. When she was about to toss her shirt onto the floor, I stopped her.

  “No. Fold it neatly and place it on the edge of the sink.”

  She bit her lip, eyes wide, but she nodded. She folded it up as I instructed…

  The memory was visceral, tearing through me with a mixture of pain and pleasure that was unreal. Just the memory of her naked body had my cock coming to life and it was only the knowledge that I might never get the chance to see it again that made me ignore it. Instead, I raced to the main upstairs bathroom in the hopes that she might have forgotten something. That she might have left her clothes – and maybe something in her pockets – behind.

  As I pushed the door open, I was steeling myself for disappointment. I’d told Allison to clean up where we’d made a mess, and that included this bathroom. She’d followed my orders so well, I was sure that—

  I froze.

  There, sitting on the edge of the counter just as she’d left them, were her clothes. Pants, shirt, and bra were all folded up neatly on the edge of the sink. The panties I’d kept for myself, just in case I needed to take care of raging hard-ons like the one that was trying to rise right now.

  I laughed at the sight of her clothes.

  “Jesus, I’ve never been so happy to have a woman disobey,” I said aloud, a smile on my face.

  I hurried over to her clothes and began digging through them. In the back of my head, I promised myself that if I could find her, I’d both punish and please Allison for this. Punishment for disobeying – or forgetting, more like – and pleasure for leaving me this one stack of cloth hope.

  Unfortunately, that hope was quickly dashed.

  Her pockets were empty and they were clearly too small to hold anything of value anyway. Probably she couldn’t even fit her damn phone in there.

  “Shit,” I cursed, throwing the garments to the floor.

  I ran my hands through my hair. I had to find her. I was desperate. If I didn’t find her today, I worried that I never would again, and that just wouldn’t work. Sure, I had her number and I had her email, but what if she just blocked me? What if I’d hurt her so badly today that she never even read the messages I might send?

  No, I couldn’t risk it. I had to find her now.

  So I did the only thing I knew to do: I called Leo.

  “I need a favor.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I need you to find someone for me. A woman.”

  I heard him chuckle through the line. “Ah, at last. I knew you’d weaken eventually. So what should I get for you? A brunette? A blonde, maybe? Or do we want to go a little more colorful? Maybe some streaks of blue or—”

  “Shut up,” I ordered, in no mood to joke around. This was important. “It’s a specific woman. Her name is Allison Gilson. I need to find her. Now.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Allison

  I parked on the street, which sucked, but it was all this shitty apartment complex afforded me. And in all fairness, my car was a piece of junk anyway, so I wasn’t all that concerned about it. No one was interested in stealing something like that. They probably wouldn’t even believe that it ran unless they saw me driving around in it. Still, I’d have preferred covered parking for rainy days and things like that.

  Getting out, I grabbed my bag from the back and headed into the building. The ground floor had the mail boxes and a front desk tucked into its own office off to the side, but no one was ever there. Honestly, anyone could just walk in if they wanted to. No such thing as security here. I’d heard a million complaints from my neighbors, but the owners of the place refused to update their security system, and they didn’t want to pay to make copies of the keys for the main door. So it just stayed unlocked and people waltzed in whenever they felt like it.

  It bugged the hell out of me when Bree was living here instead of spending most of her time at the hospital, but since it was just me, I put up with it. Yes, I’d rather have a safer environment since I was a single woman living in a not-so-great part of town, but I was self-sufficient. I could take care of myself.

  Even though this weekend had shown me that maybe I would have preferred it if I didn’t have to.

  Don’t think about Jules, don’t think about Jules, I told myself over and over again.

  Of course, that was impossible. Even with the great news of my sister’s heart surgery being set for tomorrow and the knowledge that I would have the money to cover all of it, it was stupid to hope that I wouldn’t think of him. He’d changed my world in such a short time and then he’d taken all of it away.

  I was broken hearted like I’d never been before, and I was still trying to figure out how to overcome that.

  “Everything will be fine, Allison. Stop being one of those women,” I told myself. Those women were the ones that Christel and I always made fun of. The ones that pined over men that were worthless anyway and broke their hearts. The ones that couldn’t move past an ex, even though it had been forever.

  Sure, it had only just happened, so I was entitled to a little misery and heartache, but I couldn’t wallow in it. I couldn’t let myself be consumed by a tryst with some guy that I would never see again.

  So what if it had been my first time?

  So what if Jules had shown me a world I didn’t know existed and had sent me spiraling into the ecstasy of it all?

  I could recover. I could move on.

  At least, that was what I was telling myself. My puffy, stuffed-up head said otherwise, but I did my best to ignore that. No point crying over someone that didn’t want me. Pausing to check my mail, just to make sure that I didn’t get anything Friday after I left, I was dismayed to see that I had. All of them bills of course.

  Sighing, I shoved them into my bag and headed toward the stairs to my apartment. The elevator hadn’t worked the entire time that I lived here.

  I hoof it up the four flights of stairs to my apartment, then begin to dig into my bag for my keys. “Damnit, where are they,” I mutter aloud to myself as I dig through the clothes that I didn’t wear and the toiletries that I didn’t use.

  I felt a blush creep into my cheeks as I remembered that I’d spent most of Friday and most of today completely naked in front of a man. It had been an incredibly erotic experience and I… I wasn’t sure what to do with that.

  “Will I ever stop having flashes back to this weekend?” I asked no one in particular.

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, I dug more aggressively into my bag, shoving my hand in there to the bottom. I should have just had my apartment keys on the same ring as my car keys, but I was always paranoid that someone would gra
b one and automatically have the other. It was stupid, but I couldn’t help it.

  Finally, I felt a sliver of something cold and hard. Wrapping my fingers around the key, I yanked it out and went to put it into the door. Then I froze.

  If I’d looked up about two minutes ago, I would have noticed instantly that my door was cracked slightly open. I’d been frazzled when I was leaving Friday – had that really only been yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime ago – but I knew for a fact that I’d locked my door. I knew, because I’d been paranoid about Shae who’d come to harass me before I left. I’d double and triple checked my door to make sure it was locked, because he had me so worked up.