He bit her and she moaned. Loud.

Gloating, Horse pulled his hand out of her pants and stepped back. His c**k was like a pillar of granite and his heart beat so hard he could feel it pounding in his forehead, but he’d sent her a message about who was in charge. He lifted his fingers, slowly licking off her sweet juices.

“Don’t care how good you taste, you don’t call the shots,” he whispered. “We clear?”

She nodded, flushed and needy, still quivering.

“Your rules,” she whispered back. “Or I leave. And what happens if I do?”

He forced his features to stay smooth.

“To you? Nothing,” he said, but he knew better. If she left him, he’d hunt her down and drag her back home by the hair if he had to. “You’re with me of your own free will. But the club has to be paid in blood, Marie, not even I control that. Don’t forget.”

”Okay.”

He pushed her gently out of the way as he reached into the lingerie drawer, pulling out panties, bras and a teddy. He thought about Gary’s hands on her, stripping these scraps of lace off her perfect body, and wanted to rip them apart with his bare hands. Instead he tossed them on the floor.

“You won’t need these.”

He saw something tucked in the back, black fabric with Reaper colors. What the hell? He reached in, grabbing it. It was his t-shirt, he realized, with something wrapped inside it. She’d kept it. He pulled the bundle out and turned to Marie.

She blushed, holding out a hand.

Horse shook his head slowly and started unrolling. What he saw nearly sent his c**k punching through his jeans. It was a vibrator, and a beast at that. Not too long, but it split into two parts, one clearly designed to go inside and stimulate a woman’s G-spot, the other for her clit.

Marie kept her toy wrapped in his t-shirt.

Oh yeah. He owned her now.

“Pack the shit and the toy,” he said, barely able to get the words out. What would she look like, using that thing on herself? He couldn’t wait to find out.

She threw everything into her backpack and zipped it shut, throwing it over her shoulder.

“That it?” he asked. “You want anything else from the living room or kitchen? It won’t be here if you try to come back.” It’ll be burned to a crisp, along with any evidence your brother might have hidden here.

Marie shook her head, blushing fiercely. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear, “Next time you want to play with your pretty pink toy, you do it while I’m watching. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you wear the tee. Got it?”

Marie nodded. Horse took her arm and pulled her through the living room, past Jeff and his brother Reapers, out to his bike.

Chapter Eleven

Marie

The ride to Coeur d’Alene surprised me.

For one, it seemed to take forever because riding on the bike was work. I had to hold on and pay attention the whole way and given all I’d gone through that day, it wiped me out.

On the positive side, I didn’t have to talk to Horse.

We stopped twice at rest areas so I could pee and Horse could make phone calls. I watched him, feeling naked without my phone. They’d taken it from me, along with my car keys, and I didn’t get the impression I’d be getting it back. Horse didn’t tell me what the calls were about and I didn’t ask. I also didn’t know where the other Reapers were or how my brother was doing. All I cared about was staying upright on the bike.

By the time we pulled off the freeway in Coeur d’Alene it was dark. I didn’t pay attention to where we went or our route. I did notice that we drove through several populated neighborhoods near a very big lake before turning off on a narrow road through the woods. Buildings grew sparse. Horse pulled up to an old farmhouse, complete with quaint-looking outbuildings and a big red barn.

So not what I expected from a biker.

Horse cut the engine and I got off stiffly, trying to stretch.

“Is this your place?”

“Bought it three years ago,” he replied, walking past me toward the wide, covered porch, which had a swing, for God’s sake. Like something on a country postcard. It wasn’t fancy or big, but it was very well cared for and I suspected it had been painted within the last year or so.

I grabbed my backpack and followed him through the front door. I found myself in a living room furnished in what could only be called “man cave”. Big flat-screen, giant comfy L-shaped couch, four different remotes on the coffee table and a poster on the wall of a naked woman straddling a motorcycle backward, flat on her stomach and cheek resting on the back seat.

I hadn’t known bikes and human women could have sexual intercourse, but that was the clear implication. Lovely.

There was a hallway going straight back to what I assumed was the kitchen. A flight of stairs hugged the left wall of the house, which is where Horse headed. I really, really didn’t want to follow him.

“Get your ass up here.”

All-righty then.

I trailed him up the wooden stairs, which were covered in the center with a runner so old you couldn’t even tell what the original pattern had been. Horse flipped on the light and stood on a landing big enough to run the full width of the house, waiting for me. A person could’ve put some chairs and a little table in there, but he just had boxes piled around. Three doors led to other rooms, two toward the back of the house and one toward the front. He pointed toward the front room.

“That’s mine. Stay the f**k out of it unless you’re invited.”

“Okay.”

“This one’s the bathroom, here’s your bedroom. There’s another bathroom downstairs if you need it, next to the kitchen. Don’t flush the toilet if someone’s in the shower, the pipes are old. Go put your shit away and meet me downstairs. I’m hungry.”

I had a vision of him showering and me deliberately flushing, suddenly burning him. Maybe I’m a bad person but it made me smile. Horse narrowed his eyes at me, suspicious. I ignored him and went into my room. It was small and plain, with aged and scuffed wood floors, cream-colored walls with old-fashioned trim and two sash windows. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space, covered with very modern bedding—you know the type, one of those bed-in-a-bag things with a giant fluffy comforter that you can get for cheap at Walmart. There was a small dresser against the wall opposite the door with a mirror. A small closet stood open on the right.

The place was lifeless, which I appreciated in a way. It would be easy to put my stamp on it, even given how little I owned. I liked the idea of having my own space, separate from Horse and all the confused feelings of anger and lust that came to life whenever I saw him.

I unpacked quickly because I was hungry too, and the last thing I wanted was for him to come looking for me in the bedroom. I still wasn’t sure what his expectations were for the night. Probably not good to give him more ideas than he already had.

When I went downstairs, I found the TV on to some sports network but no sign of Horse, so I wandered back toward the kitchen. Sure enough, a door on the left led to a small bathroom under the stairwell. Double pocket doors defined the dining room opposite, which held a full-sized pool table instead of a dining room table, complete with a light hanging over it with beer logos. Definitely man cave.

That’s why the kitchen startled me so much.

I reached the end of the hallway to find what had to be the cutest kitchen I’d ever seen—like something out of a country-style magazine. Serious reality disconnect… Horse stood in front of the fridge, pulling things out and putting them on a large, wooden butcher’s block in the center. A wrought iron rack dangling pots and pans hung high above it and there were stools all around.

In a normal kitchen that would have taken up a ton of space, but this one was so huge you hardly even noticed. Horse had an old-fashioned farm kitchen, practically a living room in and of itself. Off the back I could see a door leading through a mud room. The walls were bright yellow with cutesy, chicken-themed wallpaper edging near the ceiling. The curtains over the windows were sunny, gingham-checked ruffles edged with lace.

“Who helped you set up the kitchen?”

“My mom,” he said, not looking at me. “She wanted to do the whole house, but once I saw this I made her stop.”

“Why? It’s a lovely room, Horse,” I said, heroically holding off a laugh. It felt good to tease him—it eased the tension just a bit. Horse turned and looked at me, all badass biker in his boots, jeans and leather Reapers’ cut, face black with stubble and hair tossed by the wind.

“I made her stop because I don’t have a pu**y and I didn’t want to start growing one,” he replied, voice testy.

Fair enough. I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face though.

“Make me some food, I’m gonna go take a shower,” he ordered. My mouth opened automatically to protest his tone, but I caught myself and snapped it shut. Horse held the power in this relationship, not me. It would be easy to forget that—I’d gotten too comfortable around him.

I searched through the fridge and cupboards, finding enough food for sandwiches. I would need to hit the grocery store soon if we didn’t want to starve. By the time he finished his shower I had everything ready and had spent several minutes debating whether or not to start eating without him. Fortunately Horse came back down before I could make the decision, hair all wet and slicked back. Without a ponytail it just brushed the tops of his shoulders. He wore a faded pair of sweats low on his hips and nothing else.

Damn.

I don’t know how long I stared at him, just taking in the tattooed, muscular glory that was Horse almost naked. He broke the spell.

“Glad you like it.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“My body,” he replied, smirking. “It’s the only one you get to look at or f**k, so it’s good the package works for you.”

I blushed fiercely, turning away to grab the plates and put them on the block. He took a seat and grabbed his sandwich. I did the same, trying my hardest not make eye contact with him. That was more difficult than it looked because he sat right across from me. He was big and bare-chested and I really, really wanted to take a closer look at those tattoos. I’d seen them before, but not enough to satisfy my curiosity.

“You want a beer?” he asked, standing and walking over to the fridge.

“That sounds good,” I replied, giving myself permission to check out his ass. Nice. He caught me looking as he turned around, but just handed me the bottle and we ate in companionable silence. I drank a second beer and started to feel a lot more relaxed. After we finished eating, he helped me load the dishwasher, perfectly civilized. Sometimes it felt like Horse was two different people—a badass biker jerk who gave lots of orders and a sweet, sexy man who made my body feel things Gary couldn’t even imagine, let alone spark.

Which guy was real?

“You want a shower?” Horse asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I replied. “Been a long day.”

“Use the bathroom upstairs, it’s nicer than the one down here.”

I nodded and left the kitchen, where Horse wiped up the table and counter like a perfectly normal person. So weird.

Just my luck—no lock on the bathroom door.

On the bright side, the bathroom had clearly been upgraded at some point in the recent past. In fact, looking around I was pretty sure it had been another bedroom at one point, that’s how big it was. All the fixtures matched the house perfectly—big, claw foot tub, and old dresser/vanity that had been converted by putting in a sink basin surrounded by a marble top. There was a sash window on one side, and the fact that it didn’t have real shades bothered me until I realized there wasn’t a chance of anyone ever seeing me in here. Just too far up and in the middle of nowhere.

In addition to the tub was a giant, modern shower stall with jets on both sides and a long bench. It should have been out of place, but somehow it all fit together. The best part? A big skylight that would illuminate the entire room beautifully when the sun was out. I couldn’t help but wonder how a bathroom like this wound up in an old farmhouse.

Horse’s laundry still sat in a pile on the floor, so I picked it up and threw it in the hamper. I figured I would probably be doing the laundry and wondered if he had a washer and dryer. I hadn’t seen any, but I hadn’t seen the mud room yet. All in all, the house might be a little rough in places but it was definitely comfortable. Certainly better than the trailer, and with a lot more potential than the place I’d shared with Gary.

Go figure.

So, the lack of lock was a problem, and as much as I wanted to give that tub a test run, I didn’t feel comfortable with it. Instead I stripped down and hopped in the shower, where I was pleased to find shampoo, conditioner and body wash. They weren’t my usual, but they’d do until I could get to the store. Thankfully the shower had lots of hot water, although it took awhile to reach the second floor. I soaped up my hair and rinsed it, then followed with conditioner.

The door opened and Horse stepped in as I started with the body wash. I should have seen it coming, I mean how predictable? I’d been worried about the tub but honestly didn’t see the shower thing coming. I guess I’m too pragmatic—he’d already showered, why would he want to shower again?

Duh.

Anyway, I shrieked when I saw him, a shriek he shut down quickly enough by grabbing me and lifting me up into his body. I wrapped my legs and arms around him instinctively as he pushed me against the shower wall. Then he took my mouth and I no longer had any doubts how this evening would end.

How to describe that kiss?

Well, it was rough and deep. His tongue thrust into me over and over, and I felt his penis gliding across my slit as he restlessly pumped his hips in time with his tongue. I’d love to say I didn’t enjoy it, that I was a poor little victim of the Big Bad Biker, but that straight up isn’t the truth. I caught fire and would have rubbed myself against Horse like a cat in heat if he weren’t holding me tight. As it was, I dug my hands in his hair and I tilted my head to take him deeper.