I can’t help but smirk at her small nod. She looks around as if she’s slightly numb with shock or maybe fear.
I lean down to whisper in her ear. “You scared yet?”
“Should I be?” she hisses out.
Creed, a four-hundred-pound brother covered in tattoos and a long beard, walks by and winks at her. Laughing as she moves closer to me, he clearly senses her fear and for some reason that annoys me.
I want her fear. She’s mine.
I’m going to fuck her in every hole she has and after we’ve played and had our fill, we can both move on. I won’t let my obsessive thinking about her smell and tight pussy plague me, and she can go do whatever she wants as long as it’s not in my club.
“I just… this is where you live? With all of them?” she whispers, spinning around to see the other side of the main room that leads to the kitchen. Most of the walls are brown. It was easier than having to paint away the spills and debauchery that are a regular occurrence here.
“Let’s go.” I pull her toward the stairs as Fosters starts his singing. I’m not quite sure what he’s singing—his accent gets thick when he’s drunk. She nods, her thin body stuck to me like glue as she whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Perfect, she’s sorry again. One second she’s ready to kill me; the next, she’s clinging to me.
The fucked-up thing is I like it, her, all of this. Now that I’ve decided to fuck her, I can relax and be myself.
Fosters leans against the pool table. Singing to Antoinette, he points the pool cue at her. Rip grabs his shoulder, trying to quiet him down.
I let it go. Fosters is shitfaced and has no idea that Antoinette is not that kind of girl. Or maybe she is… I mean, she is a stripper—not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Maybe that’s been my problem all along. I’ve been kidding myself with her vulnerability. Maybe she’s nothing but a fucking little schemer, only better at it than most. Whatever. We can fuck, use each other, and part ways.
Fosters pushes Rip away and yells over his shoulder, “Axel, my brother. Don’t be stingy.” Holding out his arms, he almost hits Rip with the pool cue. “Let me remind you about all the times I’ve shared with you.”
“Not tonight, man.”
She gasps. I ignore it.
“Fuck, Axel. Come on, man,” he yells as I continue tugging her upstairs. Her bags are already at my door.
Unlocking it, I walk straight for the dresser where I keep all three burner phones. I need to check on a couple of prospects who are doing some digging for me. Glancing up, I notice she’s standing frozen in the doorway, her big eyes huge.
“He’s drunk,” I assure her with a grin. “I’m not sharing you. Unless that’s your thing.” I toss the phone on my dresser and grab my pipe to light up.
“No.” She pales. “It’s not.” Her voice is almost a whisper.
“Get in here, Antoinette.” Taking a hit, I hold the smoke in.
She takes one step and looks around. Blade and I have the largest rooms in the clubhouse. He has a pool table in his. I have a mini studio in mine.
“I just… I think this is…” Her voice trails off as she takes another step. My patience gone, I walk past her and toss her bags into the room, then slam and lock my door.
“You hungry?” I pull off my cut, tossing it onto one of the chairs, and walk over to my kitchen area.
“Do you eat meat?” I scan her body. It’s so thin, nothing but toned muscle. Her arms are like twigs but perfectly defined.
“Yes.” Her voice cracks as she clears her throat.
“Something to drink?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“I’ll take a water, please.” She clears her throat again and looks everywhere but at me.
I take one from the refrigerator and hand it to her. Our fingers touch. Hers are soft and mine rough, and as I almost wrap my hand around her wrist to bring her close, she pulls back as if I’ve burned her. She feels it, same as I do, that push and pull, knowing that this is going to happen.
This one is dangerous to me. Her eyes hold nothing back. Desire, fear, desperation, swim in them. She’s terrified. And why wouldn’t she be?
She’s lost everything and is now in a bikers’ clubhouse with a man someone like her should not be around.
Ever.
“Fuck.”