“But come on, baby, they love it. They love watching me play with your pussy. And I know you love it as well.”
Sure, from time to time I may be a bit into some vouyerism, but I don’t want to… with him… here. But the small voice in the back of my head tells me that if the rumors are true, maybe I do.
“Please, stop.” I please with him, but am met with a shitty laugh.
“Oh, that’s right baby, cry, they like it more when you cry.” His hand trails up my inner thigh before they’re pushing my panties to the side.
A glass shatters from behind the bar, which gives me just the distraction that I need. I slam my head back against his nose and jolt upwards, fleeing towards the back.
“Fucking slut, get back here.” He grips my hair, yanking my head backwards, and grabs me by the arm, gripping me so hard that I won’t be able to leave. “You will not disrespect me like that. You will do whatever it is I tell you to when I tell you to.”
I know, he probably charged them for what he was promising tonight, and even if I wanted to, I would never see a fucking penny of it.
“You belong to me, Tate. No one’s ever going to love you, but me.”
I’m aware he’s full of shit and that he doesn’t actually love me. It hasn’t even been long enough to ‘love’ me. He’s just another narcissistic bastard.
“Let her go.” The voice that has lived in my dreams for the last few years says from behind Leon. My stomach tightens, not needing to see who it is to know.
“This isn’t your fucking business. Keep walking.” He snaps out, not looking over, either.
The voice yanks Leon backwards, taking a few strands of my hair with him. The sound of his solid body being slammed straight into the metal wall is enough to stifle the entire room.
“See, that’s where you’re mistaken, motherfucker.” His face is now out of the shadows and although it’s been years since I’ve seen him. Zane stands, not looking at me, but his voice sounds more… traumatized. “You’re in my fucking club. And generally, I wouldn’t have given a shit if you finger fucked your girl in front of the entire club, but I could tell from where I was that she didn’t fucking want to.”
And because you feel a slight possession of me?It’s a wishful thought.
“You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” He shouts at him. Leon looks terrified for the first time since I met him. “She wanted too. Tell him you wanted to, baby.”
“Trust me, I know what her face looks like when she wants to fuck someone, and that wasn’t it.” The mention of our time we spent together years ago makes my heart race. Knowing that even after all the women he’s fucked, he still remembers me… not that I’ve kept track of him or anything. I sound pathetic.
“You’re full of shit.” Leon snaps back at him.
Zane turns, looking back at me and for the first time in 4 years, our eyes lock again. Every ounce of feelings that I left in his bed all those years ago comes flooding back. I still dream about him regularly. I can tell by his look that he doesn’t need to ask me. He can tell. “Tatum, go wait for me outside.”
I nod my head and like so many years ago, there’s still something about him that forces me to listen to his demands.
I walk out the front door and I see the MC standing around. I’m assuming waiting for him now. I recognize them from seeing them riding around town, watching as the charter tripled in size over the years. I emerge from the club and walk over to Zane’s bike. The man who was in the woods that first day looks up, shocked.
“Tate?” He asks. I nod my head. “Oh.” He shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he finishes. “This makes more sense, now.”
?
“Tatum, go wait for me outside.” I tell her after we make eye contact for a solid minute, and I don’t need her to tell me she didn’t want to be there. I can read it all over her face.
“How the fuck do you know her?”
I press the blade just harder against his throat and his eyes widen.
“Now, Leon, this is what’s about to happen. I’m about to ride out of here with her on the back of my bike. I’m going to take her wherever she wants to go, but I have a feeling she’ll end up in my bed again. Tomorrow, either way, if she shows up or if not, you will never lay another hand on her or anyone again. Are we clear?” I ask him, but he refuses to answer me, so I press the blade just a tad harder into his neck. I can feel the second that the flesh cuts, not yet enough to force any blood out, but enough to leave some sort of mark.
“Yes!” He shouts, causing me to smirk and nod my head.
“Good, because if you do, if you lay a hand on anyone. I will personally deal with you.”
He laughs this time. “You think you’re your daddy?” He laughs again. “You’re not Ash. No one is afraid of you.”
This time it’s my turn to laugh, letting a short, dark one echo. “You’re right. I’m not my dad. I never try to be.” I lean in further to him, presses the blade hard enough to feel the skin give underneath the pressure. I watch his face contort as he tries to reframe from vocalizing his pain. “Believe me when I tell you, I’m fucking worse than he ever was. So, Leon, if you ever lay another hand on Tatum, I will slit your eyelids first, so you have no choice but to watch me cut your hands off.”
