Bred By the MC Prez by Sam Crescent Page 0,16
ass jiggle until it was out of sight.
Chapter Five
Beth had been with Forge for over two weeks now, and it was still a challenge for her to get used to his lifestyle. For one, he never took her back to a house or private residence. Nope, her place was in the clubhouse, mainly in his bedroom, which did bore her. More often than not, she found herself looking out of the window at his men down below.
The way they behaved with the women, it shocked her. She wasn’t used to such blatant displays of attention. The women were all over the men. A couple of times she’d seen them in their skimpy outfits trying to get it on with Forge, but he didn’t seem interested. He’d give them a look or say something that had them scampering.
A small thrill went through her whenever she saw him refuse other women. Afterward, he’d look up at her and offer her a little smile. He’d never give her the cold glare that she’d come to see he dished out for everyone else.
At night, he came to her bed, at least he did when he wasn’t out doing something. “Business,” he called it, but she wasn’t so naïve. When music started to play, she knew it meant the club had returned.
This morning, she’d gone searching for breakfast. She’d tried to find something to eat when she thought most of the men and women were gone. Of course, that wasn’t always the case and she’d heard a couple of prospects talking about the club going out to send a message. Again, she didn’t know for what or for whom. Just looking at the club, she knew she would never want them to try to send her any kind of message. They scared her.
If Forge was back, why hadn’t he come to say hi? For three days, he’d been gone and she felt a little lonely. And worried.
No one talked to her. The women gave her a wide berth of space. This place wasn’t her home. It never would be. Resting her head against the window, she stared out across the night sky. For the most part, it was dark until the clouds would give the moonlight a chance to filter through and light up the darkness. The biker life had looked fun at first. She enjoyed going shopping, at least, most of it.
She stared down at her body and the tears fell. She swiped them away, hating herself for even allowing herself the chance to care what people thought. All her life she’d been told about her weight and how disgusting it was. Nothing had ever changed. Even starving herself for a short time hadn’t worked.
The desire to fit in, to truly belong to the club, was overwhelming. But she was too scared to try, too fragile for more rejection. What was wrong with her? Why didn’t any of the old ladies like her? Even the club pussy gave her the cold shoulder, which said a lot.
Beth imagined the whispers around the club. They probably thought Forge was too good for her.
The door opened, causing her to jump, and she quickly got to her feet so she didn’t look like an unattractive puddle on the floor.
“Are you too good for me and my club?” Forge asked.
As a way of a welcome, she didn’t know what to say or do. “What?”
“Look, I get that you’re hiding up here because I did buy you. You’re my woman to use, fuck, and breed. Your father gave you to me and I’m not giving you back. I’ll pop that cherry soon, so you’re going to have to get used to me being around. This club is your home now. Those men would die for you, so the least you could fucking do is show them some respect.”
She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it.
“I’ve been told you rarely come downstairs, and you haven’t spoken to anyone.”
She nodded.
“Are you too good for us, princess?”
“It’s not that. I promise.”
“Then what is it? Because I don’t have women who think they’re better than anyone else.”
She averted her gaze, not wanting him to see the tears his mean words were creating. “I’m not used to this.”
“To what?”
Her father’s words of calling her useless and constantly sending her to her room to stay out of the way bombarded her.
“I … I … don’t … I’m not, I’m… It’s better if I’m out of the way.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because, this isn’t… I’m not here because you