When they’d left town three days later, Rhys had gone with them, telling himself he would leave them at the next town. It was three years later, however, and he was still riding with them.
Another loud scream drew his attention back from the past. Layla swallowed, increasing the pressure on his cock, and then Rhys came in her mouth, letting his orgasm ride out before using his hand in her hair to jerk her off his softening cock.
Tank slammed the woman down on the table, slapping her on the ass as she continued to struggle. Rhys looked away as Layla ran her tongue across her bottom lip. He shoved his dick back into his jeans before zipping them then picked up his glass, finishing his drink in one swallow. Taking her arm, he shoved his chair back from the table, preparing to get to his feet.
“What’s wrong?” Her heavily made up face stared up at him.
“Nothing. Just decided to move this to one of the bedrooms.”
Layla’s frown disappeared. From her smile of anticipation, Rhys could tell she was expecting some enjoyment of her own.
The front door opened again, drawing his attention from the attractive club whore. Adam, Mason, and Jace came in, and Rhys watched uninterestedly as the club president took in at a glance what Tank and Skid were doing.
“Let her go, Tank.” Adam’s cold voice brooked no argument.
When the biker turned an angry red, Rhys thought for a moment Tank was about to ignore his leader’s order, but then he reluctantly backed away, letting the woman go.
Adam moved to stand casually in front of her, as if he hadn’t just interrupted her being raped.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Broni.” The shaky voice had guilt stirring within Rhys. He released Layla, motioning for her to refill his glass. He then took another drink to restore the mind-numbing emotionlessness that enabled him to keep everyone at a distance.
“Where did she come from?”
“I found her behind the club.” Skid rushed to answer.
“What were you doing behind the building?” Adam’s harsh expression showed he had no sympathy for the predicament he had found the woman in when he’d entered the club.
“My car broke down. I was trying to find a phone to call a tow.”
Rhys winced at her stupidity of letting the rough crowd know she didn’t have a phone to alert anyone of her whereabouts.
“She’s mine and Skid’s. He found her. You don’t mind sharing do you, kid?” Tank interrupted Adam’s interrogation.
Skid gave Tank a worried frown. Everyone in the club knew that by the time Tank finished with the girl, she wouldn’t be worth a dime to anyone else, but Skid was young, unable to stand up to the more overpowering biker.
“My family will be looking for me,” the girl threatened Adam, which wasn’t a smart move.
“Doesn’t matter if they do, no one will be searching for you here. Skid, get her car started then dump it somewhere on the other side of town. Tank, you know how we divvy club property up. She goes up with the rest of the spoils, and whoever wants her bad enough will have the chance to have her.”
Rhys saw Tank’s hands clench by his side. He was jonesing to take Adam on and wrestle control of the club away from him. Adam maintained the club with iron control and a few rules to keep the hot-headed brothers from killing each other. While most of them were loyal to Adam, only the strongest and meanest could lead this crew consisting of mostly felons and ex-military who were unable to function normally, according to society’s rules. Tank was itching to take control from Adam, and the already lawless group would become uncontrollable if that happened.
“Fuck.” Tank’s huge, booted feet carried the furious asshole to the bar.
Rhys rose to leave the room since the inevitable confrontation was over. He put his hand on Layla’s ass to push her towards the bedroom, her vapid giggle nearly making him change his mind.
“Rhys!”
He stopped, turning back when Adam yelled his name, cussing at himself for not disappearing while he had been distracted with Tank. As he walked across the room, he saw Mason hand the woman her jeans back. Rhys eyed her long legs before going up her flat stomach and finally meeting her gaze. Curiously, Rhys noticed the fear had left her eyes.
“Keep her with you until Saturday,” Adam said when Rhys came to a stop in front of him.
“Why me?” Rhys was about to argue the order but didn’t get the chance.
“Because you’re the only one who won’t touch the merchandise until then,” Adam answered, taking a seat at the table.
“Why not Mason or Jace?”
Adam’s mouth tightened at Rhys’s words. “Because I told you to. If I let them keep her, Tank will say I’m playing favorites.”
“All right.” Rhys gave in reluctantly.
Adam turned to the woman who had pulled on her jeans and was watching them uncertainly. “Stay close to Rhys’s side. Don’t try to run away, and whatever you do, stay far away from Tank.”
She looked over Adam’s shoulder to Tank before briefly nodding her head with an abrupt movement and moving to Rhys’s side. Her willing cooperation was a relief; Rhys was in no mood to put up with a struggling female.
“Let’s go. I was on my way to bed.” Rhys turned on his booted heel, leaving her to follow behind him obediently.
Layla grabbed his arm as he passed. “What about us?”
“There is no us. Maybe later, Layla.” Rhys jerked his arm away from her needy grasp.
“You fucking bastard. You’ve left me hanging for the last time.” Her hand attempted to smack him.
“Is that so?” Rhys grabbed her flailing hand, pushing her up against the paneled wall. He roughly gave her thin top a quick tug down until her tits popped out. He grabbed one of her brown nipples, twisting it until she gasped, biting her lip. Then, Rhys’s hand slid up her bare thigh, going to her pussy. His fingers rubbed on the outside of the cheap material of her shorts, causing Layla to moan, arching her hips forward.
He stroked her harder when he heard her whimper of frustration, sliding his fingers in her shorts, plunging a finger int
o the wet pussy that was demanding more. Then he slid another finger inside, stroking her harder. He ignored Broni, who he had felt come to an abrupt stop when he had pushed Layla against the wall.
“Rhys.” Her hands reached greedily for him.
“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, releasing the tortured nipple, taking the other one in his hand before giving it a cruel twist.
Layla started to slide down the wall.
“Stand up.”
She locked her legs in place while Rhys’s thumb circled her clit as he continued to finger fuck her. Layla gasped and barely held herself up against the wall when her pussy began rippling as she came. Rhys released her nipple and his hand from between her thighs.
“You get off when I want you to, but there are other cunts in this club besides you. Do you understand me?”
Layla weakly nodded her head.
Rhys continued to his room. Opening the door to the dark interior, he flipped the light switch on. Broni stiffened when the door closed behind them, but she continued to walk further inside.
Rhys went into the bathroom, shutting the door, not worried about her escaping. His room had no windows, and if she went back out his door, one of the other bikers would return her to him. She wouldn’t be allowed to escape. Her life as she knew it had ended when Skid had found her.
Rhys didn’t feel sorry for her. She wasn’t the first woman who had been taken by the bikers. Most ended up enjoying the life; those that didn’t learned to keep their misery to themselves.
He showered, cleaning off Layla’s scent from his body.
It had taken him two years after Deena had been murdered to be with another woman. He had been drunk at the time, giving in to his body’s demands, fucking a woman he had picked up in a bar. After he had finished, he had vomited on the floor beside the bed. She had taken off and Rhys couldn’t blame her; he had been a fucked-up mess. Three years later, he still was.