Page 26 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

Owen kisses me and keeps his dick in me for a few more seconds before withdrawing. He turns me around and kisses me on the lips right away. Again, no time to react. When he pulls away from me, our eyes meet and my heart flutters nervously again.

I know what I’ll have to do tonight and it hurts. I have to go through with my original plan. Drug him.

He’s just grinning from ear to ear, unaware of what’s coming. Unaware that I’m not ready to have moments like this. Not with clients. Not with random men. Not with dangerous, bearded white boys.

“Come cuddle,” he says. “I’ll wait for you.”

He kisses me again. Gentle. Subdued the way all men are when they finish. His kiss makes me feel bonded to him. No. This isn’t escape. This is running right into a trap.

“I’ll be there,” I tell him. “And I’ll bring you a glass of water for all that hard work.”

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, planting another kiss on my lips. “One thing I like about black women… you know how to take care of a man.”

I wait for him to leave the kitchen before freeing my dime bag of pills from its hiding spot in my braids. Within seconds, I have the pills crushed and mixed into the water. My homegirl who swore I could use these to “get out of doing the nasty” (her words) promised they were tasteless and if it all goes wrong… I’ll grab the glass from him and chug it.

But it won’t go wrong. This will work. I’ll drug Owen and get the fuck out of here. Away from men. Away from feelings. Away from all the bullshit emotions that made me vulnerable enough to get tricked into coming out here in the first place.

This is my one chance to escape and I’m not going to let some good dick screw it up.

Twelve

Scrap

Present Day

Ilead her all the way to the cabin’s master bathroom. It’s old-fashioned — straight out of the 1930’s with details like a claw foot tub and shower combo, and brass fixtures — but she can get naked and get clean here, which is what I want. Once we enter the bathroom, she turns around, giving me the first hint that she feels at least some fear if not remorse.

No emotions cross my face. I had plenty of emotions the afternoon I woke up realizing that I didn’t just lose everything, but some woman played my heart completely. She made me think we had a connection when we didn’t. Based on how long I slept and the fucked up headache I had which went far beyond a hangover, she must have drugged me too.

And look at how it turned out. All that lying and scamming got her ass in trouble again. She should have trusted me.

“Take your clothes off, Vickie,” I command her firmly. I don’t need to get rough with her yet, but I want my tone to hint atthe possibility of roughness if she were to disobey me. I catch a whiff of nervousness, but she makes her best effort to hide those emotions from me.

I respond to her hesitation with an intense but quiet stare. No need to get more explicitly intimidating than that. She slowly begins to strip down. I can feel her reluctance to get naked, but I don’t care. This is exactly what Vickie deserves. She treated me like I was a fool and I had made the idiotic mistake of caring about her.

Even after she drugged me and ran off… I still thought about her smile. I still thought about her pretty brown skin. How her ass looks as I made love to her from behind. I pined after her for too fucking long.

Now, I just want revenge.

She looks just as fucking hot as she did the last day I saw her. I could never forget what she looked like. Vickie was exactly my type. Thick in all the right places, and not a body you would find everyone trying to imitate. The woman was all natural. I love that. She smelled all natural too. I remember that part clearly.

Once she’s naked, Vickie avoids my gaze. My heart thuds nervously in my chest and there’s no fucking way anything I want with this woman should make me nervous. She hurt me for no fucking reason — and I would have helped her. She turned me into her enemy when it didn’t have to be that way.

“You didn’t feel so shy when you were crushing up some date rape drug into my water.”

“I didn’t rape you,” she says dismissively.

The pulse of rage gives way to my darkest impulse. She’s pushing me to this.

“Get on your knees, Vickie.”

My tone doesn’t change. I remain steady. In control. Giving her very little room to fight against my orders. But it’s Vickie, so my command gets her to look me straight in the eye.

“Excuse me?” She says. “I’ll get in the shower but?—

“This is not a discussion. You’re going to get on your knees and suck my cock or I will never forgive you for drugging me in Vegas. Ever.”

“I’m not looking for your forgiveness.”

---