Chapter Three #3
“I don’t know what she is, but I’m gonna find out. Find Sin, tell him to meet me in church.”
“What are you gonna do with her?”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not right fucking here!”
My hand connects with her ass again, her shorts having risen up even higher.
I track my men’s eyes as they roam over her hips and exposed ass, a responding deep, warning growl working its way up my chest. Both of them put their hands up, taking large steps back just as the door swings open, and I’m face-to-face with Malice, my sergeant at arms.
He’s shirtless, like always, wearing just a pair of low-slung denim jeans, the bones of his pelvis protruding, the only thing on his torso the thick vest of his leather cut and a whimsical horror fest of patchwork tattoos Rogue has given him over the years.
His eyes widen, his signature wild look when he gets excited, taking over his features.
“Ooo! What do we have here?” He claps in excitement, bending over and tilting his head to look at my vixen’s face while she screams out her frustration.
“She’s not a friendly, Mal.”
“A plaything then? You can put her in the dungeon!”
“What the fuck? You have a fucking dungeon here?” she yells, trying her damndest to lift herself up off my shoulder.
“Not in the way you’re thinking, honey. If I dropped you off down there, you’d be praying to your god it was a different kind of one.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, Prez. I treat my guests with respect.”
“The screams say otherwise, Malice,” I deadpan while Rolo snorts.
“Oh. Well, that’s part of the fun. I like it when they scream.”
“Of course you do, buddy,” Noose chuckles.
“Meet me and Sin in church, Mal. I’m gonna get our new houseguest settled. Hey, actually, can I borrow a pair of cuffs?”
“Metal, leather, or fluffy?” I look at Malice and blink slowly, knowing better than to ask if he’s serious.
“Surprise me.”
“You got it, Prez!” he replies as he heads to his room with a salute.
I stomp through the entryway of the clubhouse—our home—with eyes on me and no fucking clue what they’re all probably thinking right now.
I end up in front of my own door, sighing, knowing there’s nowhere else in this place I would consider putting her.
I open the door and kick it closed behind us.
I don’t let anyone into this space. Never had a woman in here before and never had planned on it.
When I fuck, it’s on neutral ground and not in the only place that’s private and solely mine.
“Put me the fuck down!”
“As you wish.” Removing her from my shoulder, I drop the violent little thing on her stomach in the center of my bed, her body bouncing, face planting not so gracefully with no arms to catch her fall.
Her plump little ass is practically hanging out of her cutoff shorts now, and I so badly want to bite into the meaty flesh of the globes.
She quickly rights herself, scrambling backward, swinging her legs off the bed in an attempt to stand. I’m quicker, pushing her back down onto the bed just as there’s a knock at my door.
“Don’t move,” I demand. She rolls her fucking eyes at me as if she’s annoyed, and I can’t believe the audacity and lack of fear in this one. I’ve never met a single woman in all my life like her. Which is why I’m instantly obsessed with her.
I back away slowly, not taking my eyes off her as she blows a gust of breath upward to move her bangs from her eyesight. Her piercing brown eyes are looking at me with all the disdain in the world, bottled up and focused solely on me. At least she’s feeling something for me. I can work with that.
I open the door to find Malice bouncing from foot to foot and looking around the hallway like he’s never been in this part of the clubhouse before.
He may be a bit . . . unhinged . . . but he would die before he let anything happen to any of us.
He’s extremely smart, organized, and holds his position within the club with high esteem.
“You got ’em?”
“Yep! I was torn between the three, but I think she’ll like the metal best. They’ve got a secret on the inside,” he whispers the last part, cupping his hand over his mouth and leaning forward as he deposits a pair of metal cuffs into my hand.
“Thanks, Mal. I’ll be down in a few. Just gotta get her secured.”
“You got it, Prez.”
I kick the door shut, swinging the cuffs in my hand as I walk toward the woman sitting on my bed, braced for a fight.
Jesus, I can’t get over what a knockout she is.
I’ve never seen hair as dark as hers before, a gorgeous, silky black that shines in the shitty fluorescent lights of my bedroom.
Her body is tight in all the right places, fit and athletic, like she spends hours making sure she stays in shape.
Our eyes don’t leave each other’s as I prowl her, her spine straight and confident like a fucking warrior queen braced for battle. Fuck, if that isn’t sexy to me. I don’t want a woman who will cower in the face of a predator.
I want this.
I want her.
But before we get to that, we need to get past the little issue of who the fuck she is and what she wants with me behind us.
“Where’s the key to your cuffs?”
“In my pocket,” she purrs, and I know exactly what she’s doing, so does my dick. I look down at the shorts that are so tight they had to have been sewn on her body, and I can’t imagine how a key could fit anywhere in them.
“Well, can’t say I’m not going to enjoy searching for it, vixen.”
“Stop calling me that,” she snaps.
“You gonna tell me your name, then?”
“Fuck you.”
“Now that’s not a very nice way to talk to your captor.”
I push her down flat on her back, with my hand to the center of her chest, her lower back arching, with her hands braced underneath her.
My hands pat the small pockets of her denim shorts, finding a simple key in the front right.
There’s barely enough space for me to slip my finger into it, fishing out the key.
I don’t miss the way her breathing hitches, the way her fair skin flushes that pretty crimson heat. She’s just as affected as I am.
“Is that what you are? My captor? Afraid I don’t believe in Stockholm syndrome, so if your plan is to get me to fall in love with you…” She shrugs like I just asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee. “Sorry to break it to you, Chaos, I’m dead on the inside. It won’t happen.”
“Now there’s a challenge, vixen.” Flipping her over, I cuff one of her wrists with the new cuff, then unlock the other one, freeing her.
Dragging her up the bed, she doesn’t fight me like I expect her to, instead letting me get her as comfortable as possible against a pillow while I weave the cuff through the metal headboard and cuff her other hand over her head.
The position stretches her arms upright, pushing her tits out of her leather jacket.
Leaning in, I grasp her chin between my forefinger and thumb. “And I like a challenge.”
Beautiful brown eyes sparkle with mischief, the amber swirling with trouble, my heart pounding out of my chest. She really is so goddamn painfully beautiful.
And lethal. My eyes flick down to her lips, naturally darker red, her bottom lip plumper than the top.
Her tongue slips out, seductively licking through her seam.
“We could have so much fun if you’d behave,” I whisper just as she pulls her head back slightly and spits directly into my face.
“Fuck you! If you think you can keep me locked up here against my will, you had better pray to your god for strength because I will not go down without a fight, you demented fuck!”
Standing slowly to my full height, I lick my lips of some of her saliva, moaning as her taste hits my tongue.
I wipe the rest off with the back of my hand, watching as she looks up at me with rage and contempt.
Hate fills those beautiful browns, and I don’t know what the fuck happened to her to make her this way. But I’m going to find out.
Without saying a word, I turn and leave, pulling the door closed behind me and coming face-to-face with Wrath. “Get a prospect to stand guard at my door. No one goes in except me. Understood?”
“Yeah, I got it. No one in.”
Now to explain to my brothers why I have a random woman held hostage, handcuffed to my bed, and get a plan together for finding out what she wants and how the hell I’m going to keep her.