Then it clicks. She wasn’t really his girlfriend. I’d bet anything he fed her a dream, kept her caged, bought her silence with comfort and control. I’m sure he told her they were a couple.
“How often did he stay at the house?” I ask.
Silence.
“At first, all the time. Then… less. Sometimes I’d wake up and he’d just be watching me.”
I climb into the full-size bed, wrap my arm around her, and breathe in the coconut oil scent clinging to her bonnet.
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
“I’m not offering it,”I mutter.“Go to sleep.”
It wasn’t the best sleep I’ve had, but it was enjoyable. My hard cock nestled against her ass half the night while she squirmed in protest. By three a.m., she used the bathroom, came back without a word, and passed out in my arms.
Good I wore her beautiful ass down.
She was right—I’d fucked a lot of women. But none of them stayed the night. None of them ever got to wake up next to me. Sophie was the first.
I release Sophie and rake a hand through my hair. The disappointed look on Jennifer’s face from earlier flashes through my mind. I remember when she begged to lie under me just to look into my eyes. I didn’t give her that. Just pinned her againstmy dresser and took what I needed. She kept reaching for my face, trying to kiss me. I never let her.
I don’t do intimacy.
After losing my parents, I struggled to let women into my life. Not many received my affection—they got what I gave. But Sophie? Sophie punched me in the nose and told me she wanted nothing to do with me… and somehow, she’s mine.
I curl my arm around her again and drift off.
Sometime later, I stretch and open my eyes.
“Sophie. Time to wake up.”
“No,”she groans, her ass grinding into my morning wood.
Fuck. I love the way her ass looks and feels.
“Where the fuck am I?” Sophie jumps out of bed like her hair is on fire.
I peer at her and my cock stands tall waiting for her attention. “At the Royal Bastards MC clubhouse.”
She grips her bonnet. “You kidnapped me.”
“Sophie, we’ve established that. Go to the bathroom and do your thing. We leave in forty-five minutes.”
“I don’t want to be with you… at all,” she huffs.
“Is that so?” I ask as I stalk toward her slow and deliberate. Palming her ass, I press my nose to the crook of her neck, inhaling. She smells like lavender.
“I’m staying here,” she grits out.
“My pretty little captive you don’t have a choice. Get it together or you’ll ride in the trunk.”
She shoves my chest. “Asshole.”
∞
At seven a.m., I yank her out the side door.
“Why do I need to bring my bag? Aren’t we coming back here?” she asks.
