Lexi, Property of Rhyder: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Blood Brothers MC Book 6)

by J. A. Collard

  “Pull them up, let’s see.”

  He does, and we look at the details of each man. A full report is displayed along with a picture of the person.

  The first name—Salvador Lawrence—appears on his screen.

  “Can’t be him, he’s a farmer.”

  Tracker nods and clicks on the next one. “Alberto Lawrence.” Tracker reads a bit of the information and says, “No, brother, can’t be him. He’s fifteen.”

  I grind my teeth impatiently while waiting to get some information. “Try the last one.”

  Tracker clicks on the details, and disappointment fills me.

  “It’s not him. He’s a waiter,” I say.

  Tracker nods.

  “Fuck!” I spit out and start to pace the floor.

  I can hear Tracker typing something as I kick the chair with my foot, angry that I’m getting no-fucking-where.

  “Bingo.”

  I whip my head around to his, and quickly walk back to the bed. “What is it.”

  “Here, look at this. I did a search on a Lawrence in the USA, and we have ten. However, this one right here owns a winery in California. According to the FBI website, he’s been charged with smuggling drugs from Mexico in the past. However, he’s gotten off. He’s too rich, too powerful, and far too smart to go to jail.

  With hope filling me, I look at the image of him. He’s not what I was expecting. Lawrence is young, well built—not some old, fat, arrogant, ugly bastard like I’d imagined. His eyes show dominance and control. Images come to view of his home as Tracker goes to work getting the information we need.

  “Zoom in on the address, brother.”

  Tracker does, and there’s an image of a huge plantation home.

  “Bingo,” I say with a wide smile. “We have her.”

  “Listen, brother, it may not be that simple. We don’t know for sure she’s there.”

  “Oh, she’s there, all right, I can feel it. He fits the profile for stealin’ young women.”

  Prez walks over to the computer and looks for himself. “Mmm… a handsome-looking man, isn’t he?”

  I grind my jaw, and Prez laughs. “Didn’t mean anything by it, just trying to understand why he would need to pay for a girl to sleep with him.”

  “Maybe he has a different type of appetite,” Tracker adds, and without thinking, I grab the nearby coffee mug and smash it against the wall.”

  “Fuck!” Tracker yells. “Get your shit together, man. This temper ain’t gonna do you no good, and it sure as shit ain’t gonna get her back.”

  Prez walks over. “Reel it in, brother. You need to be prepared that the Lexi you knew might not be the same girl.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?” I growl.

  Prez places his palms up. “Nothing. Just saying he probably has ways to make her do his bidding, that’s all.”

  “Like what?” I growl.

  Prez shrugs and turns around walking to where he has a beer sitting on the counter. “These rich fucking men have sick appetites and know exactly how to manipulate. Believe me, I’ve seen my share.”

  I nod, remembering the stories I’ve heard about Prez’s old man, and how he had his hands in all kinds of illegal shit, including women.

  Trying to control my temper, I inhale deeply. Then I remember what Paige asked me to do. “I gotta take Paige home. Her parents are expectin’ her tomorrow, and she made me promise I would be the one to deliver her.”

  “What brought this on all of a sudden?” Tracker asks

  “Lexi’s spoken about me and said I can be trusted. Right now, she’s terrified and been manhandled by a lot of men. She needs someone she can trust. I told her I’d do it.”

  “I get that,” Prez adds. “When you flyin’ out?”

  “Tonight, that way I’ll be back the followin’ day to go to California. I’m not takin’ any chances. I need to move fast.”

  “We’ll wait here and look into Lawrence’s lifestyle. Maybe we can think of a way to get inside that fucking house.”

  I look at Tracker then at Prez. “Thanks… this means a lot to me.”

  “We’ve always got your back. Remember that.”

  I nod at Prez, then say, “I’m gonna go get my things together.”

  The door opens, and Hawke walks in with a bag. He places it in my hands, saying, “Here’s her fuckin’ clothes.”

  “What’s got you all pissed?” I ask.

  I hear Tracker and Prez laughing behind me.

  He narrows his eyes. “I ain’t ever going shopping for women’s clothing again. I don’t do this shit for Lu even when it’s her birthday. Do you know the kind of looks I got walking into a women’s store?”

  I laugh along with the boys, and Hawke storms past us into the bathroom, and we burst out laughing.

  LEXI

  My eyes flutter open, and I realize I’m entangled in the sheets. It took a while to go to sleep last night after what Master did to my body. He had me wanting something I’d never wanted before.

  “Good morning, Red. How was your sleep.”

  I jump up and back in my bed, sitting against the headboard, all while quickly covering myself with the sheet. Wearing just a negligee, I feel exposed to him.

  “It’s rude not to answer a question when asked?” Master stands from his seat and walks toward me. He’s wearing nothing but black silk boxer shorts, and his hair is messy like he’s just risen himself. A wide chest with exceptional abs stands in front of me, and my heart beats wildly as he sits beside me on the bed. “Well?”

  “I slept okay.”

  His eyes lock on mine, then they travel to my lips. Master’s hand comes out, and I flinch. He notices and studies me with his intense stare. My entire body trembles as his fingers slide against my bare shoulder and then to my hand that’s clenching the sheet. In one quick movement, he snatches the sheet out of my hand and has the front of my negligee pulled down exposing my breasts, and I gasp loudly. When his hand cups one of them, and his thumb plays with my nipple, I want to slap him, scratch his eyes out, and beg him to stop.

  But it’s of no use.

  I know he won’t stop.

  Master has made it quite clear that he’s in control, and that’s how he likes it.

  “Your breasts are perfect,” he murmurs as he manhandles my other breast, now using both hands and squeezing them together. I breathe heavily trying to ignore the pulsing between my thighs and squeeze them together.

  I don’t want to like what he’s doing to me.

  It’s sinful, and it’s with a man that I hate. Don’t I?

  Master leans in and runs his nose down my neck, breathing in my scent. “Bella, I want to taste you.” His tongue comes out to lick my sensitive skin, and I squeeze my eyes shut as he sucks on my earlobe. “I wonder, Red. Are you wet for me?”

  My eyes look away from him, and I swallow hard, keeping myself rigid. His hand moves the sheet lower, and one of his hands leave my breast to travel up my thigh.

  “Stop it,” I beg. “Please don’t.” I grip his hand with mine, stopping his hand from traveling further up my thigh.

  Master grasps the back of my neck and pulls my face to his, our lips almost touching as his eyes bore into mine. “I will take what I want when I want. I own you. Do you understand? You are mine to do with as I please.”

  My mouth grows dry with his wild eyes staring right at me. I can see he’s struggling to keep his cool, and just when I think he’s going to take me here and now, he pulls back and stands looking down at me. I can’t help but notice his shorts tightening in the front.

  “Get dressed, we’re going out for the day.” Master turns to leave.

  “What? Where?” I ask, not having any control of my motor mouth.

  With the side of his body facing me, he bites down on his bottom lip, and my heart stops. I’ve angered him again.

  Stupid, Lexi! Stop with all the questions.

  Master fists his hands beside him, and I wait, lifting the sheet under my chin.
>
  “Just. Get. Dressed,” he demands, then strides out of my bedroom.

  Staring into space, I sit for a while wondering what his plans are. Part of me wants him just to take me to get it over and done with, but then the other half is scared and doesn’t want to be touched. He had the opportunity to force me, but for some reason, he controlled his urge and pulled away.

  But why would he do that?

  Not wanting to overthink, I head to the bathroom to take a shower. Once done, I exit in a towel and almost scream when I see Gail standing there.

  “Sorry, Red, I wanted to see if you needed help with your hair?” I raise my brow. “Is that something else that Master asks you to do for his girls?” I ask, but in an extremely sarcastic tone.

  Gail clasps her hands together in front of her and walks over to me. “Maybe he did, but it would also make me happy to do it for you. You have beautiful hair,” she says, lifting a piece of my wet curls.

  I shrug. “Whatever! But I need to change first.” I step over to the drawer and grab some underwear and a bra and bring it up to my face, then look at Gail over my shoulder. “Really? All he’s got for me is G-strings?”

  She shrugs, and I don’t bother to ask her why because I already know the answer. He prefers it. I quickly change in the bathroom and walk out in a mint green summer dress. I can tell it is warm outside with the room already feeling a little muggy. I take a seat at the dressing table and turn to Gail. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Gail strolls over to me with a smile. Today she’s wearing a white linen dress that falls just below her knees. I really don’t understand what her job is around here, but obviously, she likes it or she wouldn’t be here, or maybe she’s a prisoner like me?

  “Shall I put it in a braid for you?”

  I look at her in the mirror. “Does Master like his girls wearing braids?”

  Her lips tighten, and then she nods. “Well, yes, he does. But you don’t have to.”

  I shrug. “Okay, sure, why not.”

  She brushes out my wet curls, and for some reason, I actually enjoy her working on my hair. It brings back memories of when my mom would brush my hair as a child—it was a feeling that made me believe I was safe and loved. I shut my eyes, remembering that feeling and wondering if I will ever feel that way again.

  “There you go.”

  I open my eyes and stare at myself in the mirror noticing that it’s a loose braid. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Now hurry because I have breakfast ready for you, and it’s probably going cold.” I smile. “I’ll be right with you… I’m just going to finish off here.”

  Gail turns and leaves letting me know not to be too much longer.

  I gaze at myself in the mirror, admiring the dress that Master purchased for me. It has a heart-shaped neckline with thick straps. Buttons line the length of the dress. The waist is brought in tight, and then it falls in an A-line to my knees. I look down at all the makeup that’s laid neatly on top of the dresser and decide on mascara and gloss. I know Master expects me to wear red lipstick, but today I don’t want to. Plus, it won’t match the color of the dress. Happy with myself, I move to the door and check the lock—it’s not locked.

  Did Gail forget?

  Quietly as I can, I open the door and step out into the hall. Looking left to right, there’s no one in sight.

  This could be my chance.

  Happy I’ve worn flat sandals, I tiptoe down the stairs, and once at the bottom, I hear the rattling of pots and pans coming from the kitchen.

  The front door.

  It’s right in front of me.

  So, I quickly make a run for it.

  Disappointment fills my entire body when I find it locked, so I try with all my strength to pull it open.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  I freeze. Goosebumps erupt all over my body with the realization of who that voice belongs to. The sound of heavy steps behind me, and then he’s against my back. Our bodies are flush against each other. Master smells my hair and lingers.

  “You will need this if you’re trying to escape.” I look around, there’s a set of keys dangling from his fingers. “Are you trying to leave me already? We haven’t had a chance to get acquainted.”

  Master fists my braid and pulls it to the side exposing my neck. His lips touch me there, and with a stern voice, he says, “Don’t ever try to run, Red, because I will find you. I will always find you.”

  His hard, muscly body cages me in leaving me nowhere to go. He spins me around with rough hands, and I take him in. Master’s dark hair is wet from the shower, and he’s wearing an open-collared white shirt that’s tucked in navy chinos.

  “Do you like what you see?”

  Not realizing I was apparently staring too long, my eyes look into his in a mocking stare.

  “No,” I answer, and within a micro-second, he pushes me hard against the door and kisses my mouth. His day-old stubble scratches my skin as he demands entry into my mouth. Refusing to let him have me that easily, I try and keep it closed. The asshole bites down on my bottom lip which makes me sigh, and that’s when he takes the opportunity to invade my mouth.

  His tongue wraps with mine, and the pressure of his body makes me fall back against the closed door. His free hand cups the back of my neck, and the other slides down to my butt cheek where he squeezes and pushes me into him. I feel his hardness on my stomach, and with all the force I can muster, I push against his chest forcing him off me.

  Finally, he loosens his hold and holds me at arm’s length.

  I can’t help the reaction as I slap him hard across his face.

  He turns to me, glaring with a cold and terrifying stare. Now I’m worried I’ve pushed him too damn far.

  I want to run.

  I want to get away from him.

  But his hands grip my arms, keeping me still.

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, I see the regret in his downturned mouth. Disgust forms when he averts his eyes from mine, refusing to look at me for a beat, while his breathing is heavy which mimics my own.

  “You’re making me crazy, Red,” he spits. “I need to control myself around you.”

  The thought that he’s losing control around me somehow brings me joy. I like that I have some control over him. It makes me believe maybe, somehow, I can convince him to let me go.

  Finally, he steps back wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me, forcing me to follow him—although I’m tripping over my own feet due to his sheer speed—through the house to a dining room. The smell of bacon wafts around the room, and I look down at the over-the-top breakfast Gail has prepared. Pancakes with blueberries and cream, bacon, poached eggs, and fruit are all laid out in the most elegant serving trays. My mouth instantly waters, and Master lets go of my hand and pulls a chair out for me. I take a seat, and Gail pours me a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you,” I say, lifting the exotic aroma immediately to my mouth.

  Master sits opposite me, his lustful green eyes staring into mine are full of desire. I’m not experienced in the sexual department, but I know that look when I see it. I’ve seen it in Rhyder.

  Rhyder. Oh, Rhyder.

  The thought depresses me. The last time I saw him feels like so long ago now. He must be going crazy not knowing where I am. I think about his eyes and his manly features and how he always took care of me. I think about our kiss that night, and how, although it was hard and demanding, I encouraged it. I let it happen, and it felt so right.

  Here with Master, his kiss is strong and determined, yet I sense my body come to life when he touches me.

  But this man is not the touch I want.

  It’s Rhyder.

  It’s always going to be Rhyder.

  How could I possibly like anything Master does to me?

  I’m not here of my own free will. I’m his captive. His prisoner. A plaything for him to do as he pleases with me. This is nothing more than kidn
apping, and I need to remember that.

  “What’s on your mind? You’re someplace else.”

  My gaze returns to him. “Nothing,” I say, then look down and cut into my pancakes.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing. Tell me.”

  I take a small bite, the soft-as-a-cloud pancake melting in my mouth, and the blueberries which are just that little bit tart, make my taste buds come to life. Once I’ve swallowed, I place my fork onto my plate delicately and take a deep breath to begin. “I’m thinking about my family and how worried they are. I’m thinking about my sister, Paige, and how scared out of her mind she would be. I’m thinking about how—”

  “Stop! That’s enough. I don’t want to hear about the people in your past. I have already told you that’s now forgotten. Here and now is your new future.”

  I feel my eyes burn with unshed tears, so I look down at my plate, my previous appetite now completely forgotten.

  Master drops his fork to his plate making a loud clanking sound which has me sitting upright in my chair. “I told you to wear red lipstick every time you’re with me. Why didn’t you wear it?”

  I look down, and in a low voice, I say, “I’m sorry.”

  There’s a large intake of breath, and then he says, “You will not forget next time. Now eat.”

  I hesitantly look up at him. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You will eat,” he demands, his voice definite.”

  Gail pours me more coffee, and his eyes glance up at her. “Leave us.”

  Gail keeps her head down, places the pot on the table, then walks out into the kitchen.

  “You don’t have to speak to her that way.”

  His mouth twitches. “I don’t? And why not? She’s my employee…” He rests his elbows on the table and toys with his fingers. “Just like you are,” he adds. Master picks up his fork again and begins to eat the bacon that’s on his plate and flicks open a newspaper to read.

  We are silent for the rest of our meal, which in all honesty, feels like a damn eternity. I look at him now and then notice he’s studying me intently.

  I try to finish my pancakes, but my stomach’s in all kinds of knots, and every time I take a mouthful, it makes me want to be physically ill. It seems every time I’m around this man, he does this to me.