CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  "What the hell?" he wheezed as he struggled to lift his head up, staring at Jenna on top of his chest.

  The woman stared back at him, her eyes wide. Suddenly, Cain realized that she was shivering, pressing down against him.

  "The men," she gasped out, her eyes still filled with panic. "They were there, looking for me. They're going to get me, to take me back, to hurt me again."

  Cain stared helplessly back at her. Over Jenna's shoulder, he saw Cheery's face pop up, looking equal parts shocked and amused.

  "Cheery, what the hell is going on?" Cain asked, as he slipped his other hand around Jenna to move her down to his legs, so that he could pull himself back up.

  As the biker slid Jenna down, he realized suddenly that not only was the girl damp and shivering, but she was also completely naked! For just a moment, he dithered, unable to find a safe place to put his hands, but eventually he just slipped one big hand firmly around her waist and put the other on the middle of her back.

  Despite her nakedness, however, Jenna didn't seem eager to forfeit her position up close against the man. She threw her arms around Cain's neck and buried her face in his chest, still shivering. "Please, please," she whispered into the leather jacket he wore.

  Helplessly, he rubbed the hand on her back up and down. "Don't worry," he murmured into her hair. "I'll make sure that no one hurts you. I won't let anyone take you away."

  Cain meant the words only as a soothing, calming assurance, but as he spoke them, he was astounded to feel a surge of some emotion bloom inside his chest, beneath where Jenna's head rested. Even though he'd barely known this girl for more than a few hours, he felt a surge of... what? Protectiveness? Caring? Closeness, empathy for her fear?

  After another moment, he felt the girl's breathing settle a little, dropping to a slightly slower, deeper rhythm. Her hands remained fastened around his neck, however, and she wiggled a little closer up against him. She had long limbs, but she was so thin that she fit all inside Cain's arms like a child, especially when curled up.

  Jenna's wiggling on his lap, however, suddenly made Cain aware of another growing sensation. The girl was pushing her little butt down right on his crotch, and each of her movements made him more and more aware of her presence there. Abruptly, he realized that the girl's naked breasts were pressing in against his chest as well, and he fancied that he could feel the little points of her nipples pushing up against him.

  Fortunately, Cheery stepped forward. "Jenna, it's okay," she soothed, reaching down and very gently untangling the girl's arms from around Cain's neck. "Now, let's get you back inside, and we can get you dressed."

  Cheery's efforts freed Cain from the girl's grip, but Jenna momentarily narrowed her eyes up at the whore. "He comes too," she demanded.

  Cheery glanced over at Cain in silent pleading. Cain sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, okay," he grunted. "And you can show me whatever scared you."

  Both the biker and the naked girl rose up to their feet, following Cheery back into the house. As they stepped past the open archway that led into the house's large living room, Jenna held up a finger pointing into the room.

  "There," she said clearly, her pointing finger not wavering.

  Cain followed her finger. There was a large television standing against one wall in the living room; Cain ensured that no one broke it by insisting that he'd sell the bike of any member who laid a finger on the device. Only one man had dared to test him, and Cain had immediately demonstrated that this wasn't an idle threat.

  The television was currently turned on, although it was only displaying a news station. "And in other news, James Archon, founder and CEO of Archon Banks, has announced that he's launching a new philanthropic organization, focused on eliminating ringworm diseases in affected regions..." Over the anchor's shoulder, a picture of James Archon, looking regal and commanding in a black suit with his steel gray hair swept back over his head, glared out at the living room.

  "James Archon?" Cain asked, tearing his eyes away from the man's commanding gaze to look at Jenna.

  She stared back at the picture on the television, once again shivering a little. "I remember him," she whispered, not looking away. "He came in, touched me. Made me hurt. He wants to find me, to take me back."

  After another minute, Cheery carefully led the girl away. Cain followed after them, but he lingered for just a moment before looking away from the image of the wealthy businessman and philanthropist displayed on the news program.

  Chapter eight

  Obediently, Jenna followed after the nice blonde lady, not minding how the blonde lady half-towed her along by holding her hand. This house was big, almost as big as the place she had escaped from, and Jenna didn't want to be lost.

  At least this house wasn't like that building otherwise, she thought to herself, shivering again. She still couldn't remember much, but she could recall easily the screams, cries, and whimpers that had filled the air. She remembered how the tattered, ugly curtains that hung across the doorways of rooms did nothing to block the sounds, sometimes wet and organic, that came out from inside those rooms.

  Jenna closed her eyes, trying to block the images out of her mind. She hated the blankness that she felt there, her inability to remember, but at the same time she knew that the memories lurking behind that door in her head were filled with terror and fear and pain. Yet like picking at a scab, she couldn't keep her consciousness away from that wall.

  "Here we are," the nice blonde lady said, stopping at one of the doors. They'd gone through the kitchen, down another corridor. The blonde lady raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door. "Brandy? Are you in there?"

  After a moment, during which no response came from the other side of the door, the nice blonde lady grinned at Jenna and Cain, the big strong man behind them. "She must be out - but she said that we could find something that would fit," she told them both.

  The blonde lady opened up the door, and Jenna followed her into a small bedroom, cozy but comfortable. Glancing over her shoulder, Jenna saw the big strong man glance off down the corridor, as though he was considering turning and leaving her.

  Panic rose up inside Jenna's head. He was the first one to find her, the strongest here! She had to keep him.

  She reached out and grabbed the man, Cain's, hand. She tugged him into the room, her eyes beseeching. Cain sighed a little, but he came into the room, looking slightly oversized and uncomfortable in the cozy bedroom.

  Cheery, the blonde lady, was already rummaging through a set of drawers up against one wall. "Okay, first is some underwear!" the lady called out, tossing a couple flimsy little garments back at Jenna. "Put these on, and then we'll get you some shorts and a shirt to cover you up."

  Obediently, Jenna stepped into the pair of panties, and then tugged the bra around her chest. Glancing over at the bed, she saw that Cain was carefully averting his eyes. Jenna felt puzzled. Why was he looking away? Was he somehow bothered by her nakedness?

  From behind that dark door in her mind, Jenna suddenly recalled other men, men who had wanted to see her naked, who had torn cruelly at her clothes and stripped her bare so that they could touch her. She shivered, but managed not to run and flee.

  She could control the panic, she said sternly to herself. She was not ruled by the fear. She was someplace different now, someplace safe. Cain would protect her, as would the blonde lady. They wouldn't let that man from the television come and take her.

  Once she'd pulled on the underwear, Cain seemed to relax a little. Jenna tried to smile at him, and for just a tiny fraction of a second, she thought that she saw his lips quirk up at the very corners into a returning smile before they returned to neutral blankness.

  Cheery was still digging through the wardrobe, and had tossed several outfits aside, onto the bedsheets behind her. Curious, Jenna reached over and picked up one of them, holding it up to examine it. It seemed to be made mostly out of see-through gauzy fabric and black lace, and there didn't appear to be enough ma
terial there to cover much of anything. "Is this what Brandy wears?" she asked.

  Cheery quickly snatched the garment out of Jenna's hands, but Cain chuckled. "Only when she's lured one of our initiates up here," he commented.

  Jenna didn't understand this comment, but Cheery gasped and smacked Cain with the back of one hand. The hit didn't stop the man from chuckling a little more, however.

  After another minute or two of rummaging through the drawers, Cheery found a shirt, a v-neck blouse in a bright pink color, and a pair of shorts. "Here, I guess we'll have to go with these," she sighed. "And honestly, Brandy's wardrobe is terrible!"

  "Good for what she does," Cain pointed out, which earned him another smack.

  Obediently, Jenna pulled on the clothes. They felt unfamiliar, covering up more than anything she'd worn before, at least as far as she could remember. But when she looked up, Cheery was nodding approvingly, and for just another fraction of a second, she spotted another one of those tiny smiles on Cain's face.

  "Great!" Cheery clapped her hands together. "She's fed, she's clothed, and I think my work here is done. Cain, my love, I leave her in your surely capable hands."

  This time there was no mistaking the look of panic in the biker's eyes. "What? What am I supposed to do with her?"

  Cheery shrugged. "I have no idea," she replied, not sounding concerned. "But you better keep her safe, and I'd say that the best way to do so is to start by figuring out where she came from, and why Mr. James Archon might want to get her back and hurt her."

  Cain looked as though he wanted to say more, but with a toss of her hair, Cheery bounced past him, out the door.

  And a moment later, Jenna and Cain were alone in the bedroom.

  For a second, the biker looked at the door, raising one hand as if trying to call the blonde lady back. But she was gone, and he let his hand drop, sighing and glancing down at his lap.

  Jenna scooted closer to the man, sitting down beside him on the bed. "I'm sorry," she said, looking down at where the man's hands were now folded on his lap.

  He glanced over at her. "Sorry? What are you sorry about?"

  "About making you have to look after me. For bothering you. For coming into your house."

  The man shook his head, and he leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his arms behind him. "Nah, that's not your fault," he said, although he still didn't look over at her. "There wasn't any other place for you to go."

  Cain seemed distracted, and Jenna still thought that he was annoyed with her. But she remembered vaguely what to do in situations like this. When a man was annoyed or angry or upset, it was always her fault, and she had to make him feel better. And maybe Cain wouldn't hit her, wouldn't make her hurt like some of the others had done.

  She reached out, putting her hands on his lap, rubbing them back and forth. Cain started up in surprise, but she found the hard rod beneath the rough fabric of his pants, and she wrapped her fingers around it, stroking back and forth. It stiffened at her touch, as it always did, and she slid one hand up to find the button that would take his pants off, so that she could put him into her mouth.

  But before she could undo that button, Cain's hands came around and seized hers, holding them firmly by the wrists and pulling them away. "What the hell are you doing?" he burst out, staring at her.

  Jenna looked back up at him, her eyes going wide once again. Was he going to hit her for doing something wrong? "You are angry," she tried to explain herself. "And when a man is angry, I must make him feel good-"

  "No!" The cry came out as a roar, and Jenna shrank back from Cain. Couldn't he see that he was angry, now, that she had to make him feel better before he lost control and hit her?

  Even as she shrank back, however, Cain forced himself to stop, to take a deep breath and let go of her hands. He stared down at his crotch, taking several more deep breaths. When he finally lifted his eyes back up to gaze at her, the anger that had flared up in them before was gone.

  "Jenna, I don't know what you had to do before, but you don't have to do it now," he said, not pulling his eyes away from hers. "And as long as you're in my house, under my roof, you don't need to sleep with anyone, man or woman, or do anything with them that you don't want to. Do you understand?"

  Jenna stared back at him, not understanding. "But you wanted it," she tried. "I could feel you; you were hard, needing it. You wanted me to touch you, to make you feel good."

  "Did you want to?"

  She shook her head, still feeling confused. "What does that matter?"

  For just a second, Cain stared at her with his mouth hanging slightly open. And then, to her complete surprise, he swept her up into his arms, pulling her into a fierce hug.

  "It makes all the difference into the world," he whispered into her ear as he hugged her, comforting her. "It matters more than anything else."

  Chapter nine

  When he released her, Cain peered closely at Jenna's eyes, wondering if he'd managed to make himself clear to the girl, if she understood. As well, he tried to imagine what she might have been through, what had been done to her to teach her that she had to satisfy any man who was angry around her. Such degradation seemed almost unthinkable, even to him. Who could break down a woman, little more than a girl, so thoroughly?

  Shifting a little, he did feel his erection, pushing against his pants. It was true that he'd reacted at her touch, but for heaven's sake, any woman grabbing for his cock would have caused the same effect!

  He shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable way to sit where his bulge between his legs wouldn't be obvious. "Listen, Jenna," he tried. "It doesn't matter what anyone else wants. If they try and tell you to do something because they want it, well, you give them your biggest middle finger and you tell them to go to hell, understand?"

  Even through her shame and downcast eyes, he thought he saw a brief little glimpse of a smile at that comment.

  "All that matters is what you want," Cain continued, feeling emboldened. "If you want to sleep with them, and they want to sleep with you, well, great! But each person is able to choose what he or she does with her body. Even here, with us."

  Now the girl was looking up. "What do you mean, here with us?" she asked.

  Another tough question. Cain reached up and scratched the back of his head, trying to buy time for an answer. "Some of the women who live here, in the house," he began slowly, "will sleep with some of the bikers who hang around, in exchange for money, or for other favors."

  "But that's okay?"

  "Yes, that's okay. Because they still choose to do it. It's still the woman's choice, and she can always turn a man down, send him away if she doesn't want to fuck him. She owns her body, and she has the final say."

  Jenna nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. "So I own my body?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  The girl suddenly stared up at him, her eyes boring into his. She had brilliant greenish-blue eyes, Cain suddenly noticed. They contrasted sharply against her hair, now full of shades of red and yellow since it had been cleaned. She stared at Cain, and to his amazement, the older biker felt himself tempted to blink, caught off guard by the intensity of that gaze.

  "So if I choose, I could give my body to you," she said, still watching him closely.

  Cain's mouth opened, but he scrambled for a minute for words. "Well, yes," he hedged. "But you don't need to do that!"

  "Why? Don't you find me attractive?"

  Again, Cain found himself at a loss for words.

  Somehow, he knew that the answer to that question was a definitive yes. Even though he knew how wrong it would be to take advantage of this situation, of this poor used and abused girl, he wanted her, felt his body yearning for her.

  Angrily, he forced that feeling down, pushing it aside. This was not the time! he shouted mentally to himself. He could choose from any other whore in the house to fulfill his needs. Jenna was damaged, fragile. She was off limits.

  "I do find you attractive, yes," he sa
id slowly, realizing that the girl was still waiting for an answer, "but I know that you're not ready. You've been hurt, and even if you might not know it, you need time to recover. And until you're fully healthy, nothing will - nothing can happen between us."

  He waited, watching Jenna, hoping desperately that she wouldn't ask him to explain further.

  For several seconds, the girl was quiet, just staring back at him. Cain tried to match that gaze, but he sensed disquieting intelligence hiding behind those blazing, powerful eyes. This girl might be still healing from whatever trauma had befallen her before she'd found her way here, but Cain sensed great strength still lurking within her, bruised and beaten but not yet broken.

  Finally, she nodded, breaking the eye contact, and Cain breathed a little more easily. "Okay," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "I understand. I am not yet ready to offer my body to you."

  For just a moment, Cain hesitated. That still didn't sound quite right to his ears. But he didn't want to dive deeper into that sinkhole, and he sensed that he was not equipped with the right skills to work through this difficult, thorny problem.

  Instead, casting about, he found something else to distract Jenna from such thoughts of her body and sex.

  "Well, it sounds like you'll be staying here a while," he said, trying to sound happy, as though the previous topic was totally forgotten. "I suppose I ought to find you a room of your own, huh?"

  The girl didn't reply, but Cain caught a pleading, concerned look in her eye.

  "Here, follow me," he said, standing up from the bed. "There's a couple open places right near my bedroom."

  Before he turned away, Cain caught the brief but powerful glimpse of gratitude on Jenna's face.

  He led the girl up through the house, back over to the wing where his own bedroom resided, up on the second floor. Although Cain didn't mind lending out other rooms to his guests, and to other Iron Skulls, he made sure to reserve the master bedroom for himself. He opened the door to it as they passed, nodding inside.