by Jenika Snow
What in the hell was this? Why did Striker have it?
She felt those familiar, dark tendrils of desire move through her. This was not something she should entertain: the thoughts, feelings, even looking at this photo.
It was these feelings, these desires that had been what she’d held close, kept secret. If anyone knew she wanted to be controlled, dominated in the bedroom, they would have said she was defective, damaged. But the truth was looking at this picture, imagining she was the one restrained, bound, had Elena feeling a heat she’d never experienced before. The space between her legs clenched, became wet as she imaged Striker the one restraining her, putting those marks on her body.
God, she was sick, truly depraved, but it seemed Striker had a few skeletons in his closest, as well. Maybe they weren’t so different. Maybe if she admitted what she liked, what she wanted, he could be the one to finally give her what she’d been craving? Or maybe she should just leave, keep her dark secrets hidden, and know that she was just a disgusting person with perverse desires.
Chapter Nine
Sitting at the bar in the clubhouse, Striker stared down into his drink. It was just after lunchtime, but he needed to clear his head. Elena was at home, and life at the club was more than fine, yet something was bugging him, and he didn’t know what it was.
Dominion.
“The bodies ceased to exist,” Nerd said, collapsing into a seat beside him.
“You told me that.”
“I thought you should know face-to-face. So where’s the special pussy that had you going all mental.”
Taking a deep breath, Striker turned toward Nerd. “I’m here to have a drink, not talk to you about my feelings.”
“Oh, you’re in love.”
“Fuck off, Nerd.”
“What are you two pussies talking about?” Joker asked, coming up behind them.
“None of your fucking business,” Striker said.
“Striker’s got a crush.”
He glared at Nerd. What the fuck was happening to them, talking about their fucking feelings?
“No, I don’t.”
“Oh, a woman. Is this at Dominion or someone else?” Joker said, slapping him on the back.
“It’s no one.”
“It’s got to be someone. He killed two men last night, and we had to fucking clean it up.” Nerd kept on talking.
“Murdering for a woman, it’s got to mean something.”
“I don’t know her, all right. She worked at a diner where I stopped to have some coffee. I followed her—”
“Stalker alert,” Steel said, coming to join the conversation.
“I wasn’t fucking stalking.” You were, you really were.
He wasn’t stalking. He was protecting her.
“You followed a woman; you didn’t know who she was, yet you still followed her?” Joker asked.
“What’s the big fucking deal?”
“He’s in love!” Nerd said, laughing.
This is why he could never leave the club. It wasn’t because his brothers were being total assholes; it was because they were there for him. No matter what the problem was, providing he remained loyal to the club, no one could touch him. Last night, he didn’t have a single worry about disposing of the bodies as his brothers had been there. He probably should feel guilty about killing two men, but with what he saw them doing to Elena, he didn’t care. There was no guilt, and the only reason he was thinking about it was because of Elena.
“You guys are assholes.”
“When are we going to meet her?” Demon asked.
“Does she like the odd spanking?” Steel asked, imitating smacking Joker’s ass.
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his drink, downing it. “You’re all fucking assholes, and no, you’re not going to meet her. I’ve got to keep her protected from all of you.”
“You worried about the competition?” Nerd asked.
“Nah, you couldn’t handle my girl.”
He left the clubhouse, reeling from what he’d just said. My girl? Elena wasn’t his girl. She was a merely a girl he’d helped in a bad situation.
She’s sexy as fuck.
Striker couldn’t deny an attraction, but just because there was one, didn’t mean that he actually wanted anything more to do with her.
Fuck! He needed to get his rocks off. Straddling his bike, he made his away from the Soldiers clubhouse and headed toward Dominion. There was only one place where he could go to blow off steam, and he had a lot to blow off.
On the ride there, all he thought about was strapping a woman over a spanking bench, getting her ass completely naked and exposed, whipping the perfect globes until they were red, covered in welts, and she was begging for more. His dick hardened at the thought. Parking his bike when he got to the BDSM club, he was determined to satisfy his appetite for some angry fucking sex. However, as he stood at the entrance of the club, he froze. Zeke made sure his club was available at all times of the day for certain clients. To the main public, the club was closed.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Nothing ever stopped him from going after what he wanted. If he wanted pussy, he went out and got it, no questions. It didn’t matter to him if he screwed a different woman on different days, he never committed to anything.
Elena was nothing to him ... she meant nothing. He didn’t even know her.
Why is she staying at your apartment? Why are you thinking about her so much?
Gritting his teeth, he climbed back on his bike. He had much better things to do than go fuck some random pussy who was probably being paid to moan at the feel of a whip. Once he was back at his apartment, he made his way inside, and found Elena curled up on sofa still reading a book. Her cheeks were flushed when she looked up at him, and she scrambled to her feet, putting the book down.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Come on, we’ve got to go and grab your shit.” He didn’t look at her, grabbing his keys instead. Striker didn’t know how much stuff she’d have to move, and he wouldn’t be taking any fucked up crap. He had the money for new, and he wasn’t going to have stuff he didn’t like taking up room.
She rushed to her bedroom and returned seconds later. Her hair was pulled back, and the clothes she wore were still too damn big. It would be good to see her curves on display. Leaving his apartment, he took her hand and helped her in the passenger side of his SUV. He didn’t speak, not even after he started up his car, or even while he was on the road.
Elena’s hands rested in her lap, and she stared out of the window. Gripping the steering wheel even tighter, he tried to gain control over himself. His cock was incredibly hard, and in the small confines of the car, her scent was distracting him.
“So, did you have a nice morning?”
“Fine.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“What’s got you so perky?”
“You’re in a mood, and it’s making me nervous. I figure I should break the ice and just talk about something.”
“I was dealing with club shit, and no, you don’t get to know about that. No one gets to know about that.”
She was silent for a second, and he glanced toward her, seeing her nod. “So no talking about the club. Got it.” She rubbed her thighs, and he took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?” he asked.
“For being nice to me and for doing this. You don’t know what it means.”
“Have you had any contact with your family?”
“No, none.”
Thinking about her family made him angrier. He knew better than anyone that there was a lot of fucked up things in the world. “What are the chances of them coming after you?”
“I don’t know. I hope they don’t.”
Rubbing his temple while steering with one hand, he took her directions as she started to point left and right. This woman had no idea about
her own safety. There’s no way he could let her be in a world on her own.
“It’s the apartment block on the far right.”
Pulling up in front of the pitiful excuse for an apartment, he blew out a breath. If anyone wanted to come and take her, they could without a problem. She was more exposed than a fucking porn star.
The whole apartment building screamed easy prey.
“This is it,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
For a second, he watched as she climbed out of the car. Not once did she take in her surroundings. Elena had no sense of danger, and she should, given her family situation and what she’d been through. It pissed him off. There’s no way he could let her go, not now, not ever.
Chapter Ten
Elena looked behind her as they climbed the worn stairs of the apartment building. Striker had this hard, fierce look on his face. She was slightly embarrassed to have him coming to her place, because his apartment was far more nice and spacious; hers was a downright hovel.
The stairs had dirt and trash scattered around them, and the scent of old piss filled her nose. This was an apartment building that was on its last legs, but for the price, and the obscurity, she’d taken it. Whether her family would come for her or not was still left to be seen. It might have been a couple of months since she’d run, and so far, she had done well enough to stay hidden; she didn’t know how far her father and uncle would go to find her, especially since she’d been given to her disgusting uncle as a bride.
“I don’t like you in this fucking place,” Striker said on a low growl.
The sound of a baby crying faded in the distance the farther they ascended, and a couple screaming at each other came through the closed apartment door they passed.
“It’s all I could afford, and I thought my family, if they came for me, wouldn’t think about looking here.” She’d run, taken what little money she had saved up, even stolen what she could from her family, and never looked back. Several states away, she prayed she hadn’t left a trail. But her uncle had been possessive of her from the very beginning, always watching her, keeping track of her. She’d taken the first chance she’d gotten to escape.
“You have a lease with this place?” he asked.
She shook her head and climbed the last flight of stairs. “No. This is a pay monthly place.”
He grunted in disgust. “You won’t be coming back here. We’ll figure something safer for you, even if you leave my apartment.
If I leave his apartment?
That almost sounded like he didn’t want her to leave, but that made no sense. She’d come into his life on very rocky terms, and he didn’t seem like the type of man to really do well with a roommate. But Elena couldn’t lie and say she didn’t feel safe with Striker; she feel like being with him would make everything okay. He’d saved her life, killed for her even, and knowing that her past was shit, he’d still kept her close.
Maybe he felt nothing for her but some kind of weird obligation, because he’d saved her, and he felt bad for her, but right now, she latched onto that. Elena had never felt that kind of emotion, had never had anyone care about her wellbeing. Even if her family had acted like they cared about her, they really hadn’t. She was simply a commodity. What they cared about was making sure she stayed pure and healthy, because their group and Elena’s uncle was what was really important. She’d just been their pawn.
When she reached her door, she grabbed her key and unlocked it. Pushing it open, the scent of staleness and age filled her head. It didn’t matter what she used to mask the scent, the building was just old and decaying.
Stepping inside, she took in the lack of décor, furniture, and anything that was remotely homey. Her apartment had nothing aside from a beat-up couch she’d found on the side of the road that someone was getting rid of. It was a little nasty to think about it, but she had a blanket thrown over it, and it was something that served as her sitting and sleeping area. She just didn’t have the money to buy anything, and that wasn’t her main concern anyway.
Striker followed her inside and shut the door. “This is your place, Elena?” His deep voice was hard, almost angry.
“Yes,” she said softly and went to the back room to grab her bag and the few items of clothes she had. Elena spent her money on food, paying her bills, and occasionally, she’d hit up the thrift store so she could have something to wear. She didn’t have a cell phone, didn’t have any kind of luxury item, but that was okay, because she had her freedom. That’s all she’d ever wanted.
“I know it’s not much,” she said from her bedroom, raising her voice so Striker could hear. “But I don’t have to have rules, don’t have to act a certain way.” She shoved her clothes in the bag, left the room, and went into the bathroom. She grabbed the few toiletries she owned and packed them as well. “I just wanted my freedom, and although this place is horrible, I have that,” Elena said more softly this time.
She turned around to leave the bathroom, but gasped when she slammed into Striker’s chest. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her and stared down at her. For a moment they didn’t speak, just stared into each other’s eyes. The intensity she felt was tangible, washing over her entire body. That picture she’d found at his place, the one of the bound woman with marks all over her body, had her instantly aroused. She wanted that, wanted to feel that, to experience that. Was Striker the man who had given her those makes, had restrained her? Was he the type of man that liked control? It certainly seemed like he was, and she wanted to experience that.
But, of course, thinking about that was ludicrous, she barely knew him, and she realized she couldn’t be with this man in any way. She couldn’t stay in one place for long, not unless she wanted to be found. But what if her family wasn’t looking for her? What if they truly didn’t care? It was an almost fantastical idea, because it had already been a couple of months. But she couldn’t let her guard down, couldn’t stop being on alert.
“Come on. I want you out of this fucking place.” He slid his hand down her arm and took the hand holding her bag. “I’m keeping you close and safe.”
And just like that, she was putting her faith, her safety, in a killer, in a biker that she was starting to realize made her feel things she’d never thought possible.
Chapter Eleven
Striker had watched Demon, Joker, Steel, and Shakes fall for their women. He’d watched each one become pussy whipped. Shakes had risked death for the love of his woman. Zeke, Daniella’s father, and Shakes’ father-in-law, had been after Shakes, prepared to kill him. If it weren’t for Daniella, they would have all been dead. The Soldiers of Wrath MC were a deadly bunch, but they knew they were no match for Zeke. That bastard had too much pull.
Glancing at Elena, he saw she was staring down at their locked hands. He made his way down to the vehicle and wondered if this was what his brothers had felt with their women. The need to protect Elena was so damn strong; it shook him to the core. He wanted to protect and fuck her at the same time, to possess her so no other man could.
Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he opened the trunk of the SUV, throwing her bag into the back of it. Elena didn’t have a lot of possessions to her name, and he intended to change that. She deserved beautiful things and a life she actually enjoyed. Part of him hoped her family would try and find her. He’d love for them to come looking, and he’d be ready to fuck them up.
There was no way anyone was touching her. He’d take his Patched brothers and fuck up the ones that meant to hurt her. Once Elena was in the car, he put a quick call through to Nerd, asking him to get every single detail of Elena’s life. Nerd started making kissing noises over the phone, and Striker hung up.
He wasn’t in the mood to be teased by his brothers.
“Is everything okay?” Elena asked.
“Everything is fine.” He started the engine. “You’re working tonight?”
“Yes. Would you mind taking me?” she asked, biting her lip. “I don’t wan
t to go back down that alleyway again.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone again. I’ll be taking you and picking you up from work from here on out. And if I can’t do it, one of my club brothers will.” He intended to go to Dominion tonight no matter what. Striker was determined to get over this shit happening to him. Elena didn’t belong to him. She was merely a woman he was helping through a bad situation.
Providing he focused on everything that mattered, he’d keep control of it all. The only chaos in his life was provided by the club. He had to keep everything else in order.
Later that night
“Thank you for the ride,” Elena said.
“I’ll come in for a coffee.”
“You don’t have to do that.” It had been a surreal day. After Striker had taken her to grab her stuff from her old apartment, they’d gotten home, and he’d taken her bag into her room. What she was surprised about was the fact that when she’d gone into the room, it had been freshly painted. How had he pulled this off so soon? The walls were pink, which she didn’t mind; she liked it because it was soft, girly even.
Being close to him was incredibly hard. The explicit picture she’d discovered in his box hadn’t stayed hidden there for long. She’d pulled it out and now had it underneath her pillow. She felt like a creep for keeping it, but she couldn’t help it; it made her darkest desires arise. She couldn’t help imagining herself as the perfect submissive, being trained to deal with her Master. Was Striker a Dominant? A Master? A Sadist? She couldn’t help but hope that he was, and then she’d cut the thought down. The little bit she knew, had looked up at the library during one of the few times she’d been allowed to be alone, had made her somewhat knowledgeable on the terms.
What was the point in hoping for something she’d never get the chance to experience?
Striker wouldn’t be interested in her. He was helping her because he felt pity for her and that was all. Even as she thought it, pain struck her deep. Just once, she’d love to meet a man who’d just take her no matter what the consequences. She dreamed of a man sinking his fingers into her hair, tugging on the strands until it was painful, and kissing her passionately. Not only was he kissing her, he was tearing her clothes from her body, ready to ravish her, taking what he wanted without care.