Her Biker Daddy

Chapter 2

Everly

A shiver runs through me at the sound of a scream. It’s coming from the direction Tate forced the bastards that attacked me, but for some reason, I don’t feel bad about whatever it is that’s causing it. Well, whatever it is that Tate’s doing to them to cause that sort of scream that is. I never imagined I’d be happy to know someone’s being hurt, let alone knowing that someone’s being killed. Always swore if I saw or heard it happen, or knew it was going to happen, I’d report it. That was before I realized just how awful the cops in our town really are, how disgusting they can be, and how little they truly help.

When I saw the cop car pull up behind mine while I was trying to get the stuff out of my trunk to change the tire, nothing but dread flowed through me. I hate the cops that come into the diner, especially the ones that try to slip their hands up under my skirt to grab my ass. They never try it whenever Tate’s there, and it’s originally why I enjoyed him coming in so much.

Then it was because of it, plus how much he’d sneak me in tips, so I didn’t have to share them. Then it was because both of those things plus the fact that when he was there I could look at him, talk to him, and daydream about him being outside one night when I was headed home, pulling me onto his bike with him, taking me far away from my shitty life.

Well, my shitty job and even shittier home that is, because I definitely don’t want to leave the town if he’s here. At one time my dream was to simply get out of here, as far from here as I can, but since I met Tate, that’s not even close to what I’ve wanted.

So, when he was standing there, his normally light blue gaze dark and hard, fury radiating off his huge body, all I felt was relief. The terror that I’d felt since those two cops grabbed me, forcing me into the back of the car even though I told them I didn’t need any help, or need them to stay, faded, and I wanted to be in his arms. I swear, I thought I was dreaming, creating some fantasy in my head to get through being assaulted by those two cops, until he kissed me. I’ve never been able to imagine a kiss that good before, and I knew it was real. Tate was here, protecting me, promising to keep me safe, and I wasn’t about to run.

His deep voice when he told me to be a good girl and stay with his bike woke parts of me that only showed when I was at home, in my bed, thinking of him while touching myself, and now, I just want him back here. If another patrol car comes by, sees me here with his bike…I don’t know what I’ll do. The cops don’t care about anyone in town, don’t protect anyone, but even more than that, they despise the Steel Reapers. If they knew that Tate was out there, ‘taking care of’ two of them, I’d be dead in a heartbeat.

Another scream comes, sending another shiver through me, but it’s not from fright. I don’t know exactly how to describe what I’m feeling, but it’s not fear. It’s not even relief. It’s almost like…pleasure, which in itself, is frightening.

I can’t believe this is my reaction now. It was pure terror earlier with those cops, but now…it’s anything but, and I can’t wait for Tate to get back to me.

The sound of crunching reaches me before my eyes can make out Tate’s huge form, and I slip up from where I’ve been half-sitting, half-leaning against his bike so I can make out his face when he stops just in front of me. His eyes gleam when they slide over me, but a hint of a scowl forms and my eyes drop down my front, heat filling my cheeks seeing how much of my chest is on display now.

“Come here, baby girl,” he says, pulling his long-sleeve shirt off over his head before dropping it over mine, covering me down past my hips. It’s almost longer than the uniform I’m still wearing. Most nights I don’t bother changing until I’m home unless I need to go run errands, and since I was stuck with the afternoon to evening shift tonight, there wasn’t a need for it. Not until I got the flat at least.

“Thank you, Tate,” I manage to get out without stuttering, but my heart does when he pulls me into his hold, his hands running up and down my back, warming every bit of me, while making parts of me ridiculously wet. Even wetter than I’d gotten knowing he was killing those bastards for what they did, and were going to do, to me when I heard their screams.

“Let’s get you home and in something more comfortable,” he says, and my heart stutters again, hating the idea of going back to the trailer with my mother and her latest asshole boyfriend.

Each one is worse and worse. This latest one just sits on his ass drinking more beer that his beer belly doesn’t need, while stealing my money whenever he finds it. That’s why I’ve started hiding it in the lining of my bag. There’s a hole in the side pocket that’s just big enough to fit folded up cash through, but not so big that my pack of gum falls into the lining, which helps to keep it hidden.

“What about my car?” I ask, hoping that maybe he’ll offer to help change the tire so I can spend a few more minutes with him. I want thousands more of them with him—a lifetime with him, but that’s not likely to happen. I don’t know many of the men from his club, but most of them don’t seem like the always and forever hearts type. I wouldn’t care if Tate was completely against marriage, although I’ve sworn to myself I’d never be with someone who wouldn’t want me forever, want me enough to marry me. I’d give Tate anything as long as he promised to keep me as his and just his—his only.

“I’ll send my guys out to get it, drop it off wherever you want to go tonight,” he adds and my brows furl, not understanding what he’s saying. “I’ll take you to your place if you want, baby girl, but if I do, I’m camping out wherever I need to in order to see that you’re safe tonight. It can be on your floor, on the couch, or wherever you want me, but I’ll be staying close—to make sure no cops coming asking questions and that you don’t have any bad dreams. Or else, we can go to mine and tomorrow, we’ll get your stuff from your place. Either way, it’s the same outcome come tomorrow night and that’s you under my roof, Everly.”

“Why? Because I know what you did here tonight?” I ask, holding onto his gaze, needing the answer to get my head on straight here and my body under control.

“Because you’re mine, baby,” he replies, making my heart stutter again and that shit can’t be healthy, but I love hearing those words from him. “I stayed away to keep you safe, from bringing you into this world, but now that you’ve been pulled into it without my consent, the only thing that’s going to be keeping you safe is me.”

“You think I was just pulled into this crap tonight?” I ask with a humorless laugh. “Yeah, what those cops tried to do is pretty fucking horrific, but my life hasn’t ever been all sunshine and roses, Tate.”

“How? Who’s hurt you?” he demands to know, his hands sliding up my back as he pulls me flush against him. The hard protrusion against my belly can only be one thing, and it makes me want him more than I ever have. The look on his face is fierce but his hold is gentle, his eyes as they roam over my face makes me think of a big grumpy bear that can turn rabid if threatened but just wants to be hugged by the right person and I want to be that person.

“Let’s see, how about we start with all of the shitty boyfriends my mom’s had in my life. At least the latest hasn’t tried to hit me every time I come home like the one before him, and he hasn’t tried to come into the bathroom when I’m showering like the one before that one did. This one just sits around drinking beer and stealing my money unless I hide it,” I admit, and my core floods with wetness at the dark look that crosses his face.

“I want names, baby,” he grunts out and I nod, not caring what happens to those jerks at all. “Who else?” he adds as his eyes hold me hostage.

“Then we have my mother who was having an affair with my ‘father’ which in turn resulted in me, but it was a secret affair so of course I’m a piece of trailer trash and a bastard that ‘doesn’t even know my father’s name’ according to everyone I went to school with. Then there’s the fact that she wouldn’t let me get a job before I finished high school that was outside of the house, so until last year, I could only babysit, and that paid shit. I don’t know why she was so adamant about keeping me in the house. I think it has something to do with the creep she was dating before the shower perv,” I tell him, watching his eyes darken even more with every word. “He was sent to jail by the feds when I was sixteen for making some seriously depraved videos, but when he was arrested he told my mom that he’d be out in no time. He never came back and after a year and a half of her sending him money, it finally came back as unknown recipient. That’s at the same time as I was graduating so I finally was able to get out of the house and get a real job—shitty as it may be.”

“Fuck baby, if I’d known I’d have taken you home with me the first time I saw you,” he says, his hand holding the back of my head and all I can see is truth in his gaze which I love. “Do you know who your father really is? He couldn’t have gotten you away from her?”

I can’t stop the snort that falls, and his brow lifts as I try to stop the laughter the mere idea of my ‘father’ stepping in to protect me causes. “Sorry, just trying to picture that.”

“So, you do know him?” he asks, and I nod. “Would I know him?” he adds, and I nod again. “Would the town know him?” he questions, his tone growing darker, and I nod yet again. “Who is he?”

“The ‘oh so honorable’ Mayor Jackson,” I answer, nodding as his brow lifts, his eyes widening as they glance over my green eyes, one of the one features beyond my red hair that I share with the man. “He knows. His wife knows. His kids know. I’m pretty sure most of the police department’s higher ups know, and none of them would do a thing to help me. They’d be more likely to hurt me like those two tried tonight than to help me.”

“Fuck baby…no more,” he grunts out, his hand coming up to my face, holding it and me gently yet firmly and I love it. “You’re mine now, baby. No one is going to look at you sideways let alone do anything to hurt you. I’m taking you home with me. Tonight, you can sleep in your own bed if you need, but starting tomorrow, you’re in mine even if you just sleep next to me for now, you got that? You’re mine to take care of the way I deem best.”

“In and out of bed?” I ask, pressing further against his hardness that’s poking my stomach still.

“In every fucking way, baby girl. You belong to daddy now and what daddy says, goes.”

“Take me home, daddy,” I sigh, leaning my head against his hand as my eyes flutter shut, heat and wetness exploding inside me. My nipples hardened to sharp points when he said the one word I’ve been whispering every night when I touch myself, picturing his face in my mind. If I wasn’t wearing this specific bra, he’d clearly see just how much I like hearing him call himself that, let alone how much I love being able to say it out loud now.

“Come on, baby,” he states, moving me the few steps back to the bike and he climbs on after grabbing his helmet. He pulls me forward, putting it on me before guiding my leg over the bike and onto it behind him. A little moan slips out when he grips my thigh tightly, pulling me further up against his back. “Are you okay, baby? Did those bastards hurt you there?”

“No daddy, I just like your hands on me,” I tease him, enjoying the way his hand tightens further on me before he releases it.

“Behave baby girl. I’m not taking you for the first time on my bike or in front of other eyes. That can come later,” he adds, and shit, my body reacts to that almost as much as when he called himself daddy. He wraps my arms around his chest, and I hold on as he starts the bike, resting my head against his back as he roars off, taking us away from this place.

My jaw drops a bit when he pulls through a gate, giving me my first view of the club’s compound. There are half a dozen houses along the road we head down, and the large building ahead of us grows even larger, until he pulls around the side of it and stops the bike in a garage.

He helps me off the bike, stowing the helmet as he grabs out a bag along with my purse, my car keys in his hands, as his other grabs mine, taking us through a door and into the huge building. I’ve no idea what this place was, but it somewhat resembles a school. There are rooms up and down the hallway. They’re wide and the floors have different tiles along the edges of it than down the middle. The walls have holes spaced evenly along sections that don’t have shit covering them.

“Was this a school?” I ask Tate as we turn a corner, and the space is more of the same.

“Yeah, it’s the joint county middle-school/high-school that was being built until it came out that the county commissioner stole the funds and they couldn’t afford to finish building it, let alone afford to then send kids out to it from all over the county rather than them staying at their smaller K through 12 schools. It went up for auction and the club bought it about fifteen years ago. It’s been through some internal remodels since then, but these rooms down here are used for members that live-in,” he explains, turning us down another hallway.

This part has to be something they updated because while you can still somewhat tell it was meant to be a school building, it’s definitely not like the ones where you have offices just inside the front doors. Our school had doors with huge windows in them and the space around the door was full windows. You can tell where that’s likely what was intended here, but instead of windows, that space is filled in with drywall, an extra heavy looking door in the middle of it.

There are walls built out from either side. You wouldn’t be able to see down the hallway if the door was open, and there are hooks and box trunks lined up all along both sides of the walls. Some of the hooks are empty, but plenty of others hold jackets and cuts like Tate’s wearing. Tate moves to one, putting his sleeve-less cut on a hook, then toes off his riding boots and stuffs his feet into a different pair of boots. They look pretty worn, not nearly as tall as the ones I’ve always seen him wear, and I’m curious about it as he takes my hand back into his, pulling me up against him.

“You can go barefoot or just shoeless in our place all you want, baby girl, but always wear shoes with thick soles anywhere else in the place. They know they’re supposed to clean up their shit, but sometimes fights break out, especially if we’ve got new prospects that don’t know their place and shit gets broken. I don’t want you getting cut on glass, okay?”

I nod, heat flowing through me because the look in his eyes when he said I can go shoeless…it’s almost like he knows. It’s not really possible though, is it?

“I like the pink ones the best,” he says, and my cheeks heat further as my eyes widen.

He really can’t mean what I think he does. “Tate…”

“My second favorite ones are the white ones with the fur around the top,” he whispers against my ear as his hands slide down my body, his big hand cupping my ass, making every bit of me quiver in the best way. “I always picture you bent over in front of me, your sexy ass pointed up my way, with a fluffy little plug sticking out of it when you’re wearing them.”

“How long have you been watching me?” I ask, my nipples once more hard little points under the layers. They hurt as the fabric tries to contain them, but I know it’d feel amazing for his fingers or mouth to be on them instead, and I desperately want that right now.

“From the first day I saw you. I wanted nothing more than to storm into the diner, bend you over and fuck you right then and there, baby girl. Took all of my willpower not to do it when you told me you were eighteen,” he adds and I flush, remembering the sneaky question he sent my way the first time he came in. He’d teased me when I went over to his table, asking if I was even old enough to be up working that early in the day. It was barely six-thirty, my first day working alone, so I hadn’t thought anything of telling him I was eighteen, until now.

“You wanted to know…”

“If it was legal to touch you?” he says and I nod, flushing further. “Fuck yeah I did, baby. Your pretty little face makes you look young still, but your curves say you’re all woman. I don’t play with little kids though, never have and never will. Never wanted someone to crawl in my lap, onto my cock and beg to be fucked, beg to be daddy’s good girl for life until I found you, baby.”

“How much…when did…what all…” I can’t begin to finish any of the questions, my entire face has to be flaming with color. My neck and even my ears feel hot, so I know it’s bad.

“Shit baby, what’s got you so embarrassed? I know you want to be daddy’s good girl, so this can’t be just because I said I want you to beg to be fucked now.”

“I…how close did you watch me? How long have you known…”

“I knew you were at least a little attracted to me, you couldn’t completely hide it when I teased you at the diner. I’ve spent months jerking off, thinking of ways to get you to want it just as much as I do. Want me to take care of you the way that’s run through my head nonstop. Want to be daddy’s good little girl and agree to let him do whatever he wants to your sexy little body whenever he wants.”

“Little?” I giggle, unable to stop from smiling.

“Little, with the sweetest, most incredible fucking curves that I can’t wait to see uncovered. Especially after feeling them so close to me now, baby. So, tell me, what has you blushing to your roots? Your eyes heat with every filthy word I’ve uttered, so it’s not that. You don’t look disgusted to know that I’ve been watching you, so what is it?”

“I’ve wanted you for months, Tate. Knew it wasn’t just liking you as a person after your third or fourth trip to the diner, that it went deeper than just that. Then you paid your tab with your card, adding a tip to it, but before you got up, you handed me the plastic check holder, and I could feel something under it. I thought it was a napkin or something so I tried to let it go, but you made sure to curl my hand around it, and told me to keep all of it for myself,” I admit, flushing a bit again, but this time it definitely isn’t in embarrassment. No, it’s the same heat that hit that day, the heat that hit low and deep inside me.

“No fucking way was I going to let that asshole busboy take any of your tips or try to get you to do anything for him. I’d have shoved his own dick down his throat if he ever suggested he’d give you more help if you got on your knees for him,” he growls, his hand sliding up to the back of my neck, holding my head so my gaze is on him.

“I…probably shouldn’t tell you then,” I start, and his eyes darken intensely, making me stop.

“Did he try to touch you?” Tate demands, his body vibrating and I step forward the tiniest bit, my hands sliding up his chest, and he shudders, making me incredibly happy to know I affect him just as much.

“My second day there, before I met you, he cornered me in the back, telling me what would get him to work faster. I told him to get the hell away from me because it would never happen. My third day, he tried to slip his hand under my skirt, and I smacked him, told him if he tried it again, I’d put a knife through it, so of course, he won’t clean any of my tables, but he also stays away from me now.”

“He’s lucky he never tried it in front of me. I’d have put a knife through his hand, eye, and dick if he did,” Tate huffs and I smile, resting my head on his chest as his arms hold me tighter. “Now tell me what you were blushing about so I can get shit handled then take you up to bed, baby girl.”

“That day, when you gave me the cash,” I tell him, looking up into his face and those gorgeous blue eyes of his, “I slipped it into my bra before anyone could see it, so I hadn’t even really seen what you gave me. I got home, took off the uniform and the bra immediately when I got in my room. It’s the only one I can wear with the uniform and keep it buttoned. They wouldn’t order me a bigger one, and that bra compresses the boobs, so I was desperate to get out of it—I’m always desperate to get out of it,” I add because the straps are digging into my shoulders and hurt like hell. “The cash fell out onto my bed, and I couldn’t believe you gave me a hundred dollar bill—that it was real. Then I unfolded it and saw it was actually two of them…I wanted so badly to go put them on my card or spend it, but I was sure you didn’t mean to give me that much.”

“Which is why you tried to give it back to me the next morning,” he says, and I nod. “So, when I gave you another hundred that day, you what?”

“I went by the store and had it loaded onto my card, bought some things I desperately needed—my mom always steals my good tampons and I was due to start any day,” I explain when his brow lifts, and that darkness settles into his eyes again, making me feel all warm and giddy inside. “I went online after that and bought some new clothes. Things that would fit my body, which included…”

“Those knee high socks you love to wear with those tiny little sleep shorts,” he grunts, and I nod again. “You’re lucky you always changed in the bathroom and those shorts were longer than any bathing suit was, because if I knew you were wearing them in front of another man…”

“I only wear them in my room, when I’m alone, wanting to feel special, remember the look in your eyes when you give me the money…while I touched myself, wishing daddy was there doing it for me,” I admit, feeling the heat creeping up again. My breath stops when Tate’s lips cover mine with a deep, hard kiss that has my panties completely useless. My thighs are wet with the desire he creates within me, and I cling to him when he pulls back.

“I need to get my guys out to clean shit up, baby, but after that, you’re all daddy’s for the rest of the night—and every fucking day after,” he adds on a growl that makes my nipples hurt as I breathe in hard.

“Okay,” I hum, smiling slightly as he leads us deeper into the building. We hit a larger open space that looks like it would have been the cafeteria of the school. You can smell food cooking, and I wonder what the kitchen looks like, because the room is filled with miss-matched tables and chairs of all sorts of variety.

Tate moves us through the room, stopping at his VP Meyer, who doesn’t say a word about Tate holding my hand or me being there, although his brow does lift curiously towards him, before they slide over me in silent question. “I need Tonka and Bolts to head down about two miles south of the Wilkens place to get Everly’s car. It has a flat, so have them fix it and bring it over here. While they’re doing that, Victors and Spawn have some cleaning up to do,” he says, sending Meyer’s brow even higher.

“What sort of clean up, Pres?” a man asks, turning around, his eye bulging a bit when they land on me.

“There’s a cruiser in the Wilkens drive that needs to disappear,” he states, and more heads turn our way, making me cling a bit tighter to his arm. His fingers squeeze mine gently, comforting me, and I breathe a hint easier knowing he’s right here with me, understands.

“And the cruiser’s occupant?” Meyer asks and Tate passes over the other bag he grabbed from his bike.

“They don’t have a single breath—or a heartbeat left—to make any trouble for us,” he replies making the man’s brow lift a bit. “I was heading home when I saw Everly’s car on the side of the road. Found her purse and keys in it, the jack in place, but her not there and knew someone was going to regret whatever the fuck they did to my girl.”

My heart flutters hearing him call me his girl, and it seems to only mildly surprise the other man, although a few others seem shocked, making me wonder what those looks mean. Tate might remind me a big bear, a tatted up bear that would easily be found on the back of a bike, his eyes have never made me think of him as a biker. Most of the others in here though…they definitely would be what I pictured if you said to imagine a biker. There’s a variety of heights and weights, a rainbow of skin tones from even lighter than me and my fair to medium complexion, to the deepest espresso of the man sitting across the room, watching us curiously. All of them seem intimidating, dangerous. Men I wouldn’t want to come across in the middle of the night or in a dark alley.

“I got on my bike, headed up the road, then saw the cruiser in the driveway, but no one popped lights to try to run me down for speeding, so I pulled off and found the bastards with their hands on Everly. They thought they could get away with trying to rape my girl, put their hands on her, so I had to teach them a lesson before they stopped breathing. What’s left of them is in the barn out there,” Tate adds and Meyer nods.

“So, we need some cleanup in the barn as well. You want the car to disappear entirely or disappear with a trail?” one of the other guys asks.

“Take it to the city, let it get seen just enough, then leave it so it’s stripped before the morons down here even know they’re gone. They won’t be looking for them here for a while, so their carcasses can rot out there. You can tell Gio we’ve got a couple fuzz pieces, I’m sure he’ll love to take them off our hands,” he adds to Meyer as another man moves into the room from the kitchen area.

“Damn Pres, about time someone brought us something hot to eat,” he says, and I can’t hold back the gasp that falls when Tate lunges for him, his hand wrapping around his throat lifting him off the ground.

“You keep your fucking eyes off my woman, or you’ll be rotting with the rest of the filth, do you get me?” Tate demands, shaking the man whose hands wrap around his wrist, trying to get free.

“Pres…Tate!” Meyer calls but Tate’s hold doesn’t begin to relax and the other man’s attempts to speak are no more than a little squeak. He tries again, but Tate’s entire body radiates with fury, and he looks my way, motioning towards Tate when he shoves another man that comes over to help away from them.

“Tate,” I call out, and he turns his head just a hint. Not enough to look away from the guy he’s holding, but enough to prove that he heard me, which is a relief. “Tate, please…I need you,” I try, and that gets him to lower the man to the floor. He still has his throat in his hands though and I just want it to end so he’ll hold me. “Please daddy, I just want to go to bed.”

Tate shoves him away, giving him another glare before he turns fully to me. The look in his eyes makes every single nerve ending in my body wake entirely, and without a single conscious thought as to what I’m doing, I lift my arms up, reaching for him. I moan softly when rather than simply pull me towards him, he leans down my way, one arm slides behind my back, the other down under my thighs, and he lifts me into his arms, shocking me with his strength, but I wrap my arms around his neck, and rest my head on his shoulder, smiling as he stalks towards the door.

“Thank you, daddy,” I whisper when we’re in the hallway, and his arms hold me tighter to him as he hits a set of stairs, taking us up to a second floor that’s similar to the first with several hallways. We head to the back of the building, and my jaw drops a bit when he leads us into a room, because it definitely doesn’t resemble a school classroom at all. The complete opposite in fact, and honestly, I kind of love it.