Page 16 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t run when she gets out of the truck. I don’t bother opening the door for her. After the utter humiliation this woman subjected me to, the last thing I’m going to do is open the truck door and treat her like a fucking princess. I still walk around to the passenger side where she stands so I can get a good close up look at her.

I remember her being taller — and skinnier. The woman in front of me added to her curves. She has large, natural dark brown tits and I have an excellent view of her cleavage from above. Just like the first time I saw her at that seedy ass club, one look at those tits is plenty to make my dick rise. Standing this close to her, I get a whiff of her natural musk.

I have no control over how my dick responds. I become aware of how tight my pants are around my thighs and crotch. My desires and emotions blend into a whirlwind of something dark and unpredictable. Thick, big tits, utterly under my control and best of all… nobody around for miles to hear this woman scream.

“You remember me,” I tell her. “Or you wouldn’t be so damn scared. It’s a smart instinct, Vickie. I’ve been thinking about you for a long time and not all those thoughts were pretty.”

Cold. She left me so damn cold. And that’s how she looks at me now. The wall behind her gaze only infuriates me further.

“You lied and manipulated me when I would have let you go,” I continue, the anger that was building in my chest forcing its way out. “You drugged me, robbed me and fucked with me at my worst. I’m glad we met again because the only thing I want is to hurt you the way you hurt me.”

Again, she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t show any emotion. Her unwillingness to bend even slightly to my desires infuriates me. My gaze wanders over her body as my darker instincts force a search for the most fragile part of her to grab onto. To break.

Calm yourself, Owen. Be patient. Be fucking patient…

The one emotion I sense crossing this woman’s face is vicious hatred.

“You’re not some saint,” she says. “Your brother still paid me to fuck you.”

“You are so full of shit.”

I don’t know what the hell is happening to me. Nothing gets my temper up like this. I never allowed myself to feel this much rage. Not for Vickie. Not for anyone. It doesn’t help your poker game to let your emotions in. Doesn’t help when you win and it doesn’t help when you lose.

My calm, emotional center has been an asset in my life, at the poker table, and with the club. But this woman… she makes me feel unstable. And she does it while giving me this cold, furious look.

“That’s exactly what happened,” she responds viciously. “You lost every last cent you earned at a poker table and I was a consolation prize.”

Nothing could be further from how I remember her. I almost have too much pride to tell her the truth but it doesn’t matter anymore. I hardened my heart to women after the incident with Vickie and I have no plans of softening it. The intimacy of thetruth can’t drive us apart anymore because Vickie will have to violently claw out an escape if she wants to get away from me.

“You weren’t a consolation prize,” I say to her. “I liked you. From the very second I saw you years ago. I liked you.”

She makes a desperate effort to disguise her surprise. But it shouldn’t be a shock to her. I got down on my knees for this woman and spread her lower lips with my tongue. When she told me that a man had never eaten her pussy before, I went down on her again and thrust my tongue index finger deep in her asshole.

She acts like it didn’t matter. Like the sex meant nothing because it happened in Vegas.

“You didn’t like me.”

I grab her cheeks. Hard. She tries to stifle a squeal but I can see that I finally caught her off guard. Not just that, but I finally have control over her. Her cheeks feel so soft between my fingers and the surge of power I get from just taking what I want is goddamn intoxicating. Her jaw makes its best efforts to clench as I hold her, but she can’t do a damn thing I don’t allow her to do.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me how I felt. Matter of fact, I want your ass to stay quiet right fucking now unless I ask you a direct question. We’ll be sleeping in the cabin until further notice.”

I let go of her cheeks. A flicker of outrage visibly surges through Vickie as she makes another mistake.

“I’ll talk if I want to.”

I slap her so hard across the face that she yelps. Not quiet, but at least she’s not talking back. She grabs her cheek as she dramatically leans backwards against the truck.

“YOU SLAPPED ME!” She screams. Then she looks at me like a fucking wildcat and the damn woman jumps on me with aconfidence of a pit bull in a dogfighting ring with a three legged chihuahua. Her legs wrap around me and the force of her thick ass jumping on me knocks us both over.

I haven’t been in a fight like this in a while, but the second my back hits the ground, my instincts take over. You don’t grow up the youngest Shaw without getting into a few scraps twice as bad as this one. I grab Vickie’s body and roll with her once we hit the ground, pushing her onto her back and grabbing onto her wrists as she flails desperately, making every effort to scratch the fuck out of my face with her untamed talons.

We sound fucking ridiculous. It’s quiet except for the cicadas and the sound of grunting as I pin Vickie’s arms over her head and get close to subduing her. She grunts and shifts as I get a better grip on her wrists and then use my hips to keep her on the ground. She struggles harder when she feels my hips pinning her down. But maybe it’s the other thing happening between my legs scaring her.

Good. That should scare her. It sure as fuck scares me to feel how hard her fighting gets me and to know that the harder I get, the only thing I can think about is how there isn’t anyone around for miles to hear her scream. And even if there were folks around, they would all be Barbarians. Our people…

Her knee nearly makes contact with my groin, prompting me to take controlling this unhinged woman more seriously.

“BE QUIET!” I roar at her. She freezes, but she only gazes up at me with even more defiance. The headlights from the truck haven’t turned off yet, but our only source of illumination will be gone in a matter of seconds. The warm lights offer me just enough time to see just how much Vickie hates me.

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